


The King and His Guardian Angel

by CreamyXD



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Complete, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 72,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamyXD/pseuds/CreamyXD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merthur AU<br/>(Set around early season 4)</p>
<p>Arthur Pendragon is the new king of Camelot having assumed the throne after his father's death at the hands of his sister, Morgana. One day while out on a hunt, a Druid appears, telling him of his destiny; a man named Emrys who resides in Ealdor. The Druid advises the king to seek out the man, for Arthur's destiny cannot begin without him, for he is Morgana's doom.</p>
<p>Merlin is a young warlock living in the small farming village of Ealdor. His life is quiet. He spends his days toiling away at the fields with his best friend Will while honing his magical talents with the help of his mentor, Gaius, the physician from Camelot who visits on occasion. When he meets Arthur Pendragon, he can't help but hate the prat. Of course, until he gets to know him better. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, Morgana scours the kingdom for the sorcerer Emrys. Desperate to find him before he finds her. When her search leads her towards Ealdor, she's surprised to find Arthur there, and with a scrawny peasant boy no less.</p>
<p>As their paths cross in the usually uneventful village, it becomes a race between the son and daughter of Uther Pendragon to either save or destroy Emrys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so to clear some things up first... 
> 
> Arthur is already king. Uther is dead and Morgana is evil. The knights are all here (of course Lancelot included). Balinor is dead but Kilgharrah is still trapped under Camelot. By some miracle Arthur has survived all those sorcerer attacks without Merlin around to save him. Generally, the story has progressed as canon, just without Merlin there, up until early season 4 (this takes place shortly after the episode 'The Wicked Day'). 
> 
> If there are any questions then please ask in the comments. I'll make sure to answer them all. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy the first chapter!

 

The birds chirp through the sky merrily, singing a happy tune as they soar above the trees in the Darkling Woods. The sun shines brightly down upon the tree tops, allowing beams of light to filter through the leaves and brighten the path ahead. 

A group of horses trot along the worn trail, kicking dirt up in their wake as they're guided by their riders through the forest. Long, red capes flow behind each rider's shoulders, the menacing crest of the Pendragon royal family warding off any unwanted outlaws from daring to approach as they weave in and out of the trees.

The king, Arthur Pendragon, rides out in the lead, crossbow braced in one hand as the other grasps the reins of his horse. His eyes scan the forest floor, searching for any signs of animal tracks but the forest floor is clear. Not a single footprint or broken branch to be found. He heaves a sigh, opting to watch the passing scenery instead. His knights will alert him if anything is to show. He tilts his head up to the sky and listens to the birds chirping, the rustle of the leaves as a breeze blows by. Again, he sighs. Nothing should be this peaceful. The previous king, his father, is dead. Nothing deserves to be happy, to be so cheerful. This should be a time for mourning, not a hunt. 

He sneaks a glare towards one of his knights, the one that had dragged him out on the blasted hunt claiming Arthur needed a change of scenery. Sir Gwaine was his name. The man rarely shows a shred of decency on a daily basis. He loved to drink, flirt with women, and generally treated everyone the same, noble or not, which, if the king were honest, was quite the refreshment for him. Though on this one occasion, he wished the knight didn't act so familiar.

"My lord?" A voice calls from his right.

Arthur turns, meeting the concerned eyes of Sir Leon, his longest serving knight. "Are you feeling ill, sire?" he asks.

"No, I'm quite alright," the king replies, giving the man a smile. 

Leon regards him skeptically, trying to pick apart the king's response and find the hidden meaning behind his words. When he isn't able to, he turns back around, letting his horse drop back behind the king's to ride next to Sir Elyan. 

Arthur heaves another sigh, staring out into the forest and hoping an animal would appear, at least then he could have something to distract him from his thoughts. 

The crossbow begins to grow heavy in his hands before a loud snap pierces through the woods. The group stops, all sounds of chatter ceasing at the sudden noise. Arthur raises a hand, gesturing for the knights to stay put as he dismounts, aiming the crossbow out in front of him as he stalks closer towards the source of the noise. There's a crunch of leaves as something moves, sounding as though it's approaching, but slowly. Arthur's finger twitches at the trigger, ready to fire the moment he sees any signs of danger. He stops just before the tree line, keeping his weapon aimed in the direction of the noise. 

There's another rustle as a figure seems to meld out of the branches. They approach, hands resting in front of their chest and hood obscuring their face. The knights dismount behind their king, pulling their weapons from its sheaths and steadily creep over, keeping well to the bushes. 

Arthur holds the crossbow up higher, aiming at the figures head. "Declare yourself!" he calls.

No response. The figure only stops to stare before they suddenly disappears from sight in a wisp of grey smoke. Arthur curses to himself, lowering the weapon in his hands as he scans the trees, searching for his prey. 

"Sire!" Percival shouts, pointing towards the same hooded figure a short distance away. 

The king grits his teeth, hefting the weapon on his shoulder and firing. The bolt soars through the air, flying straight towards its target before, once again, they disappear.

Arthur mutters another curse. He hangs the crossbow back onto his horses saddle in favour of his sword and dashes through the trees, determined to find this mysterious figure stalking him through the woods. There was no doubt the hooded figure is a sorcerer. Only magic can make a person disappear in such a way. If this cloaked individual is a sorcerer, then it is Arthur's duty to hunt him down. 

\-----

The king spots the sorcerer several times through the trees, always appearing just long enough for Arthur to see before disappearing again in a puff of smoke. The two chase each other deeper into the forest. The knights having lost the king a short ways back. 

When Arthur finally skitters to a halt, admitting he had lost the sorcerer, he no longer recognizes the area of the forest he's in. He looks around, finding twisted trees with gnarled branches twining all around him. The leaves form a thick blanket over top of him, blocking out most if not all of the sun. Arthur swallows down his nervousness, he's the king of Camelot. A forest doesn't scare him. 

He turns, planning on retracing his steps when the sorcerer returns. This time, the figure appears directly in his path. He raises his sword immediately, pointing the blade at their neck. Arthur glares at the sorcerer who only holds up their hands in surrender and moves to remove their hood. When it falls away, it reveals the face of Iseldir, the druid who had saved Leon with the Cup of Life. Arthur lowers his weapon, still weary of the man standing before him. He may have saved the life of one of his knights, but he is still a sorcerer and therefore, a potential threat.

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me?" The king demands, using his best commanding voice. 

The druid smiles, "I needed to find you alone."

"Why?"

Iseldir glances around, as if assessing their location, afraid someone is hiding within the twisted branches of the trees. He takes a step closer, lowering his voice as he speaks, "What I am about to tell you is sensitive information, if it were to be heard by, say Morgana, the consequences could be grave. Do you understand why I had to bring you here?" the man warns, eyes filled with seriousness.

Arthur swallows, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the mere mention of his sister's name. He could feel tensions run high the moment her name entered the conversation. Arthur gives a nod, letting Iseldir know he has his full understanding. "What information do you have?"

The druid smiles, leaning back slightly before his eyes turn serious again. "For centuries now, the druids have passed down the legends of the Once and Future King. It is said that the Once and Future King will unite the five kingdoms and create the land of Albion. He will rule justly, fairly, and with compassion. He will be feared by his enemies and loved by his people. He will bring equality to the land, and bring about peace. Do you know who that man is?" 

Arthur shakes his head.

He jabs a finger at the young king's chest. "It is you. You are the fabled Once and Future King that will unite the five kingdoms and bring about the land of Albion. This is your destiny."

"No, you must be mistaken," Arthur says, taking a few steps back. "You think much too highly of me."

The man smiles again, looking amused at the king's reaction. "What have I to gain from such a lie? Our seers have seen it. You shall lead your kingdom to glory."

Arthur regards the druid skeptically, wondering if the man had hit his head too hard and gone mad. Then again, he has learned from experience that neglecting a sorcerer's, especially a druids, warning is a terrible mistake at times. How often had he been warned of Morgana's treachery and chosen to ignore it? How often has Gaius' books on mythical creatures and omens been correct? Too many times to count. 

"Alright... but how is this sensitive information as you say? What could Morgana do if she finds out? She's already after my life, this would not have changed her intentions for the throne."

"You cannot do this alone. The legends always speak of another man. A man whose destiny is ingrained deeply into yours. He is a man that will bring magic back to this land, aid you in bringing together these scattered kingdoms, but above all he will be your protector, your guide, and your voice of reason. As for why Morgana cannot learn of this, it is because he will be her doom. Even now, she seeks him out. She searches for him, day and night. She fears him more than she fears even you."

The king's eyes widen at his words. Morgana's doom. A way to end her crusade of terror. "Who is this man? Where can I find him?"

"To us, he is called Emrys and he resides in a small village. A village that goes by the name of Ealdor."

"Ealdor..." Arthur echoes, creating a mental image of a map in his head. "That's a village on the border of Cenred's kingdom."

Iseldir nods. "You will find him there."

Excitement soon finds itself flowing through the young king's veins. His instincts for adventure lighting up with the thought of a quest. He is finally moving forward. He finally has a goal in sight, a way to end Morgana once and for all. His thoughts are quickly interrupted by a new revelation. Could he trust this Emrys? Who's to say he won't betray him at the last moment? Kill him and take the throne for himself? Arthur has been lied too and betrayed on numerous occasions now. First, there had been his father and then Morgana. The people he trusted the most, save for his knights, Gaius, and Agravaine, have betrayed him in some way. Iseldir had also said Emrys would bring magic back to Camelot. Would that not imply he is a sorcerer? 

"Can I trust him?" Arthur asks, with fists clenched at his side, a new coldness in his tone.

"The decision is up to you. Just know the choices you make will affect the future of you and your kingdom. I only pray you make the right ones."

With that the druid raises a hand. Arthur's head begins to spin, his vision blurs in and out of darkness until he finally blacks out.

\-----

When the king awakens its to find his knights encircled around him, all staring at him with curious eyes. He sits upright quickly, rubbing the spots out of his eyes before scanning his surroundings. He's lying in the centre of a camp, one his knights must have set up. The bedrolls are spread out along the dirt while a warm fire burns beside him. The horses are tied to a nearby tree, idly chewing on the grass at their feet. The gnarled branches are gone. The moon shines high in the sky, free from any coverage by the trees. He's back in a familiar part of the forest. 

"What happened?" The king asks, looking between each of his knights.

"We lost you in the woods, sire," Lancelot replies, jutting his chin towards the trees. "We searched for some time until it got dark. We set up camp, preparing to look again tomorrow except you suddenly appeared here, unconscious in front of the fire in a wisp of smoke. What happened to you?"

Arthur rubs at his temples, trying to stop the spinning in his head. "Nothing. I got lost and some things happened... It wasn't important."

The knights regard their king with suspicion, clearly finding the lies in his words, but they don't press him for more. Instead, they nod and turn away, ready to head to bed. 

Arthur heads towards his horse, unhooking his bedroll and laying it out under the starry sky. He lies down, using his cape as a pillow as he stares up at the sky. 

Destiny. 

The word seems to weight heavily on the king's conscience. No matter how hard he tries to bury the thought it always finds a way to resurface and rear its ugly head. It is his destiny to unite the kingdoms of Albion... and it is Emrys' destiny to help him do it. 

Emrys. 

There's another question. The man is a complete mystery to him. The druid hadn't said much other than where to find him. He didn't mention his age, any distinct features, or any other hints of the man's identity other than his gender. He can only imagine Morgana's desperation to find Emrys. At least Arthur knew where he lived. 

The king sighs, turning over on his bedroll to stare at the fire. He wonders what this Emrys will be like. Will they become friends? Enemies? Whatever the case may be, he only hopes it can be someone he can trust.


	2. Onwards to Ealdor

The hall outside the physician's chambers are empty, save for the king standing outside the door. His hand reaches for the handle tentatively a number of times only to pull back when he changes his mind. He paces back and forth along the length of the hall, considering whether or not this would be a good idea. 

It has been over a week since his encounter with the druid in the Darkling Woods. He's mulled over Iseldir's words over and over again each night. It has been the sole thought in his head through most of the past few days. It has caused him to become distracted during training, making him lose his footing on numerous occasions and ending up with a tip of a sword pointed at his neck. He has been caught by his councilmen with his mind wandering to thoughts about Emrys during meetings, having to be shaken by Agravaine in order to return his attention to the latest troubles being discussed. 

Arthur sighs, stopping in front of the door and reaching a hand out, yet again, for the handle. Before his hands even makes it half way, the door swings open, revealing the old physician eyeing him with a nasty glare. "If you had wanted to speak to me then you needn't be afraid to enter. I've heard you pacing about outside for the past half hour and it is terribly distracting," Gaius scolds, turning back around to head inside. 

Arthur walks in after him, shutting the door when he enters and glancing around the old man's chambers. The bitter scent of crushed herbs fill the air. The sound of bubbling potions surrounds him while rows upon rows of old books line the shelves wherever he looks. He picks up one of the bottles on the table, inspecting the strange dark blue colour before Gaius snatches the container from his grasp. The physician sets it down on the table, shooting him an exasperated look. 

"That's aconite. One of the deadliest poisons. I suggest you refrain from touching it," Gaius explains, moving back towards his desk where a large book lay opened in front of him. "Now," he settles down in his chair, "may I ask what the reason for your visit to my chambers is, sire?"

Arthur inches further away from the bottle on the table. He looks back towards Gaius whose knowing eyes seem to be able to search through to his inner most thoughts. "I wanted to ask, you frequent the village of Ealdor, correct?" 

"Indeed I do. An old friend of mine lives there." Gaius shifts in his seat, interest raised at the mention of the village. 

"Have you ever heard of a man named Emrys who resides there?" 

Gaius raises an eyebrow. "Never, my lord."

Arthur rests his hands down on the physician's desk, bracing his weight on his arms as he leans in. "Then what about a sorcerer? Any sorcerers in Ealdor?"

Gaius' eyes narrow, but he keeps his gaze locked on his king. "No. There are no sorcerers in Ealdor."

Arthur regards the physician with suspicion. He's always known Gaius to be a good liar when he needs to be. Sometimes, the man seems to hide more secrets than the whole of Camelot. "Lying to your king is treason."

Gaius only leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him on his lap. "Then I have nothing to fear."

Arthur sighs, knowing the old man had a resolve as firm as a rock. The king lifts his hands off the table, and begins to pace the room. Gaius stares. His eyes trailing the young king wherever he goes. "What has brought this up? Has something happened in Ealdor?" Gaius asks, sounding worried.

Arthur shakes his head, his gaze wandering about the room. "No, nothing of the sort, but I do have a favour to ask of you."

"Anything, sire."

Arthur stops pacing, halting in front of Gaius' desk. "I want you to find any information you can on the sorcerer named Emrys."

Gaius lifts an eyebrow, getting up from his chair and moving towards his shelf of old texts. He skims his finger across the bindings, searching for one of his books. "You mentioned the name earlier. What has brought this up?"

"I heard it from somewhere. That is all." The king looks towards the shelf, seeing the physician pull a large, leather bound book from the ledge. 

Gaius sets the tome down on his desk, and begins flipping through the pages. "I recognize the name. He's a figure of an old druid legend," Gaius says, pointing at some lines of text in his book.

Arthur walks over behind the old man's chair. He leans in over his shoulder, reading the words off the page and frowning. There's nothing new. Nothing that the druid had not already told him, actually, the book contained less information. At least Iseldir had given him a location to search for the man. The book speaks only of the legend of the Once and Future King, about building Albion and the sorcerer that will bring magic back to the land. It seems the legends are generally an oral tradition, passed down through storytelling from generation to generation rather than written down in text. The information written in the tome is limited at best. If he wants to find out more, he'll need to speak with the druids, but he doubts they'll tell him anything more. They're rather strict with the information they choose to share. He's lucky to have even gotten as much as he had. 

Arthur sighs, moving away from the book. He rubs at his temples, feeling a headache begin to form from the pent up stress. He has no other choice it seems. It's either wait here, twirling his thumbs or head to Ealdor and search for the man himself. At least the latter would lead him somewhere, keep him moving. 

"Thank you, Gaius. If you find anything else, please, come find me." Arthur turns and heads out the door after receiving a nod from the physician. 

Arthur walks through the castle, stopping the occasional passing knight to tell them to inform the nobles of the court that he is calling a council meeting. He needs to plan a trip to Ealdor.

\------ 

The king rides out in front with his Knights of the Round Table. The small group is more than enough, any larger and Cenred may believe Camelot is calling for war. 

Then again, that was if he could even have mustered a larger group. The council had argued strongly against the idea of heading out towards an enemy kingdom and only to search for a man no one knew. Agravaine had been the most opposed. The man had paled when the name Emrys was mentioned. He fumbled with his words, almost losing his composure as he attempted to convince the king not to go. Alas, Arthur could not be swayed, not even by his uncle. This is his duty. If Emrys had one chance in a million to end Morgana then he had to at least try and search for the man.

Arthur glances down at the map in his hands, hoping he's headed in the correct direction. The weather is not nearly as nice as it had been the last time the group was out and he didn't want to stay out any longer than he had to. Instead of the clear, sunny day, the sky is obscured by grey clouds, looking as though it would rain any moment. 

There is another reason he didn't want to stay out. The longer the trip, the more Gwaine talked. 

"And then," Gwaine says with a proud grin, "I swooped in and saved the princess' arse from Dagger and his men in the melee. He was practically begging for me to stay and be his knight, but alas his father wouldn't allow it and I had to leave."

Percival rolls his eyes at the story. Lancelot only sighs in exasperation, looking towards Leon who shares his look of annoyance. Elyan groans, after having heard the story for the fifth time in a week. 

"Gwaine, could you please shut up?" Elyan says, turning around to glare at the man.

Gwaine smirks, "Nah. You'd get bored."

"You're already boring us to death," Leon says, "it honestly cannot get much worse."

"Of course it can. We could be attacked by bandits, or mauled by a bear. Oh, or perhaps Morgana could come and burn us alive."

Leon rolls his eyes, letting out a groan. "Gwaine-"

Before he has the chance to finish, an arrow flies through the air, missing Leon's face by an inch. It imbeds itself in the trunk of a tree, the distinct thunk throwing all the knights into a state of alertness. 

They dismount, pulling their swords from its sheaths before standing together in a circle formation, back to back. They keep their eyes trained on the forest around them. They scan through the trees and steady their breathing, hoping to catch the faint sounds of passing footsteps. 

"Told you," Gwaine whispers to Leon, "Bandits."

Leon only rolls his eyes again, biting his tongue to stop himself from making a retort. 

The king eyes the tree line. He keeps his gaze locked on the spot where the arrow had come from. A few moments pass in silence before another arrow shoots out from the thicket. The knights and their king dive out of the way, breaking their circle, and giving the enemies their chance to strike. They charge forth from the trees in front of them. Their swords cutting through the air as they swing it about around their heads. 

Arthur curses, readying into a defensive stance. He keeps his sword level, eyes locked on the dozens of men charging through the trees. His eyes narrow at the crest that adorned their chest. The symbol of Cenred's army. 

"There's too many of them," Elyan says, eyes shifting quickly through the army of enemy knights.

Arthur eyes the men, hardly able to pinpoint the exact number of knights attacking them. There's only one option left it seems. "Run," he says.

The group all turn and bolt into the safety of the trees behind them. The army roars out in anger before giving chase. Cenred's men follow behind them, closing in the longer they run. With a quick nod of the king's head the group splits, hoping to thin out the armies' ranks to ease their escape. They could always meet back in Camelot. 

Arthur dashes between the trees with expert ease, making sure to keep his head facing forward and to not look back. He can hear the loud thundering of boots behind him, knowing that most of Cenred's men must have chosen to follow him. At least he knows his knights will be safe. 

Arthur skids to a halt once he reaches the edge of a steep ravine. He peers over the edge, it isn't a long ways down, not enough to kill a person, but high enough to cause damage? Certainly. He risks a glance back, seeing the army closing in with swords raised. It's either now or never. 

Arthur shuts his eyes. He takes a deep breath. Then he jumps. 

He hears a sharp crack once he hits the ground. The impact knocks the breath form his lungs, causing him to gasp and wheeze for air. He struggles up onto his elbows, hoping to get back onto his feet only to have his right leg flare up with pain in protest. He slumps back down on the ground, coughing and cursing to himself at the stupid idea. 

He glances up, seeing the faces of Cenred's men looming out above him. They seem reluctant to jump down. A few shove at each other, trying to get the other to jump only to be scolded by the man who seems to be the leader. The group turns and walks away, searching along the ledge for an easier way down. Soon, they disappear from view.

Arthur groans, knowing it won't be long for them to find a path down. He struggles into a sitting position, leaning up against the rocks for support. He reaches for his sword that had dropped down beside him. He grabs hold of the hilt and uses it to pull himself up. He winces whenever he attempts to put weight on his right leg, knowing now that it must have broken from the fall. He sucks in a breath, ignoring the pain that ignites with each movement, and inches forward, using his sword as a crutch. 

He only makes it a few feet before collapsing back onto the ground, tired and out of breath. He wipes the sweat off his brow, hoping that his knights will come back and find him or that Cenred's men never find a way down. He glances about, searching for some hole to hide in or a crevice to crawl between when the sound of footsteps jolts him into alertness. Did they find a way down already?

He quickly crawls towards a small crevice under the opposite cliff face. He squeezes in, his broken leg refusing to cooperate. Once he finally has himself fitted snugly underneath, he pulls his sword in as well, keeping his grip firm around the hilt. He waits, hearing the sound of the footsteps become louder and louder with each passing moment. 

He holds his breath as a lone figure approaches. The man swivels his head about, searching through the ravine. Arthur's grip tightens around the hilt of his sword as the man stops right in front of him. He seems to look around, and after seeing nothing, moves on. Arthur lets out a breath of relief, glad for the incompetence of the knight.

"That was a close one. We almost got caught there," a voice suddenly says beside him.

Arthur jumps, smashing his head against the low ceiling of the crevice. He swings his sword around, pointing it at the source of the voice.

"Who's there?"


	3. His Royal Prat

The paths leading through the small village are crowded at this time of day. The clouds obscure the sky above, leaving little sun to shine down onto the growing crops. Farmers work the fields regardless. They pick the weeds, and tend to the plants, hoping to finish the days work before the rain begins to fall while the children laugh through the streets. Their joyful voices fill the air as they scurry about the village, dodging behind carts or stacks of wood to hide from their parents to avoid work.

Merlin hums to himself as he strolls through the winding streets. A contented smile on his face as he takes in the fresh, spring air. He twirls out of the way of some passing children as they chase each other down the path, chuckling to himself at their energy. He'd love to have such a carefree life again. 

Ealdor is quiet, as it usually is. The most trouble they ever got into was when Kanen and his gang of raiders attacked the village, demanding the years harvest. Thankfully, Merlin had been there to rid the bandits from the village, sending them dashing back towards the safety of the forest with a quick wave of his hand. Thankfully, the villagers had taken the news rather lightly considering they had just learned a sorcerer resided in their village, then again, said sorcerer had just saved their lives and no one could complain. He admits, he had been afraid of what the people would say. They lived relatively close to Camelot and it wouldn't be odd for the kingdom's beliefs to have rubbed off on the people. Nevertheless, they welcomed him home with open arms, some even treating him with much higher regard than they used to.

Now, Merlin is relatively loved in his village, being known by some as their protector. The children enjoyed seeing his spells, whether it was from watching him conjure butterflies or felling a tree, they loved to tag along and watch. 

Though Merlin had to admit, he still had plenty to learn. Gaius, his mentor, only came around every few months. The old man would always bring with him new magical texts for the boy to study and check on his progress with magic before heading back to Camelot, where the king seemed to keep him busy as Court Physician. Merlin loves Gaius. The physician had grown to become a father figure over the years and Merlin looked up to him as any child would. He always felt himself become giddy with excitement when his mother informed him Gaius would be coming in a few days. He hasn't seen the man for over two months now and he misses him already. He hopes he can come again soon. 

Merlin opens the door to his home, giving his mother a beaming smile as he enters the room.

"How has your day been, Merlin?" his mother asks with a smile as she moves about their tiny kitchen, pulling pots and pans from the cupboards.

"Just the usual," Merlin grins and grabs his spell book from the trunk by his bedroll, "Will needed me to help him catch the chickens that escaped."

Hunith looks over to him, giving a small chuckle. "Again?"

Merlin laughs, "Yes, again. Apparently, they attacked him in his sleep."

Hunith lets out a laugh before turning back to her cooking. "I hope he didn't get hurt. Those chickens can be quite fierce."

"His face was scratched up, but he seemed to be fine otherwise," Merlin says, settling down on the bench by the dining table and cracking open his spell books. He flips to the page he had last been reading.

Hunith turns to look at him, "Oh, before you begin, could you run an errand for me?"

Merlin looks up from his book, shutting it. "Of course, anything."

"It seems we're out of mushrooms. Could you head into the forest and pick some?"

Merlin smiles, tossing the book back into his room. He walks over beside her, grabbing the basket off the shelf above her. "You know you don't have to ask."

Hunith smiles, poking her son's nose. "I'll have a piping hot dinner ready for you when you come home."

Merlin flashes a joyful grin before leaving the house. He glances up at the sky and frowns. He better hurry if he wants to make it back home before the rain starts. 

\-----

Merlin bends down, plucking the mushroom out of the dirt and tossing it into his basket. He peers underneath the cloth, counting how many he had. Four, five, six... that should be enough.

He turns, ready to head back to the village when loud shouts echo through the woods. He looks up towards the source of the noise, hearing the mob of men tromping through the forest before he's able to see them. A surge of panic floods through him. Could it be bandits? Or perhaps a passing patrol? Whoever it was, judging by the angry cries, they aren't something Merlin wants to deal with.

The warlock glances around, searching for a place to hide. He spots a narrow crevice a short distance away. It's well hidden in the shadows and just large enough to fit a person or two under. Merlin heads over, gently placing his basket of mushrooms into the hiding spot before crawling under himself. It's rather stuffy, but it will have to do. He'd prefer this over being run through by bandits any day.

The shouts get louder and louder as time passes. Merlin pokes his head out from the crevice slightly, only enough to help him see but not enough to be spotted. He manages to catch a flash of gold. Someone's jumping down from the top of the ravine. 

Merlin sighs in disappointment at the idiot who had chosen to perform such a feat. He's played through these forests enough to know that a fall from there is enough to break a bone at the very least. He would know, he's done it himself after Will urged him to jump quite a few years back.

Sure enough, the blond crashes down onto the dirt, a loud crack piercing the stillness of the ravine. Merlin hears him groan in pain as he rolls over onto his back. He contemplates going out to help the stranger, but the men staring down from the top of the ravine changes his mind quickly enough. They seem to be Cenred's knights. The reason they are chasing the fallen man is unknown to the young warlock but they seem quite determined to capture him. 

The men disappear from the top of the ravine soon after, leaving the warlock alone with the crippled idiot. Again, Merlin considers going out to help, but once more decides against the idea. He didn't know who the man is. He could be a murderer, thief, or a bandit. He didn't know. It's best to play it safe.

He crawls back into his hiding spot, resting his cheek against the dirt to keep his gaze locked on the blond now staggering to his feet. The man braces himself on his weapon, using it as a crutch in a futile attempt to escape. He collapses back on the ground after taking a few steps, not having gotten very far. 

Merlin sighs, no matter how pathetic the blond looked trying to hobble away, the warlock couldn't help but admire the man's courage and determination.

The sound of approaching footsteps sends the man on edge. He whips his head around, trying to find a hiding spot. Merlin is about to wave him in when he approaches on his own accord, most likely having seen the crevice himself.

The man crawls over frantically, clawing at the dirt as he pulls himself forwards and into the crevice along with Merlin. The warlock frowns as the man almost kicks him in the face, clearly having not seen him. Merlin shuffles over in his spot, giving the larger man more room. For once, the warlock's glad for his lean build. If he had been any larger they both wouldn't have fit into the narrow opening.

Just as the man has made it comfortably inside, the knight passes. Merlin's gaze follows the warrior's boots as they walk past. He stops in front of the crevice, body turning about as if scanning the area. Merlin holds his breath, hoping the lone man won't be smart enough to check under the crevice. 

Thankfully, it seems the knight is more of an idiot than the man currently hiding beside him. The knight walks past, leaving them alone once again in the narrow opening.

Merlin hears the blond sigh beside him with relief and that's the moment he decides he should announce his presence. 

"That was a close one. We almost got caught there," Merlin says, looking towards the man beside him.

The blond jumps, smashing his head against the low ceiling and wincing with pain. He whirls around, elbow crushing the basket. His eyes are wide and terrified as he swings his sword towards the voice beside him. 

"Who's there?"

"You're crushing my mushrooms," Merlin says, ignoring the man's question and instead pulls the basket closer towards him.

"Who are you?" The man demands again, shoving the point of his sword closer to Merlin's neck.

Merlin looks down at the basket, unfazed by the sword pointed towards him, and using the sliver of light entering the crevice to check on the condition of the food. He frowns when he finds them squashed into unrecognizable lumps. He holds up the basket towards the man's face, causing him to flinch back slightly before seeing what's inside. "Look what you did to my mushrooms," Merlin says, annoyed. "It took me almost an hour to find them."

The blond only scowls, lowering his weapon. "I don't care about your mushrooms. I'm demanding who you are!"

Merlin crosses his arms over his chest and wiggles out of the crevice. He gets to his feet, basket in one hand. "I don't need to tell a prat like you."

"Prat?" The man says, also crawling out of the crevice, though he remains sitting against the dirt, unable to stand. 

The man has a rather large build, Merlin notes. His body seems to belong to that of a warrior, all brawn and no brain it seems. His hair is mussed and sticking up at odd angles. He seems to have a permanent scowl on his face as well. 

"Mind you I am the King of Camelot and I will have you thrown into the dungeons," the man says sternly. 

Merlin rolls his eyes. Perfect, a royal prat. He sticks his tongue out at the man. "If you had half a brain you would realize you're not in Camelot, and therefore you have no authority over me."

The king grits his teeth in anger, moving to stand only to have his leg cripple under his weight. He scowls, "And as a royal you should still show me the respect I deserve."

"The respect you deserve?" Merlin scoffs, " You crushed my mushrooms and pointed a sword at my neck! I think you deserve no respect from me, clot-pole!"

The king's face turns into a scowl. He uses his sword to help him stand. He glares into the boy's eyes, slightly peeved that he was shorter than the loud mouthed peasant. He points a finger at Merlin's face, "You hold your tongue."

"Or what? You can't even walk. I could take your sword and leave you here on the ground flopping like a fish out of water."

The blond's face reddens. He looks away.

Merlin gives a triumphant smile before grabbing the man's other arm and throwing it over his shoulder. He keeps the man steady by holding him around his waist before moving forward, letting the king lean against him for support. The blond tries to pull away only to be held firm by the leaner man's grip. 

"What are you doing?" The king asks, limping along beside him reluctantly.

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I'm not heartless. It's about to rain and I can't leave a dollop-head like you outside alone. You'd be eaten alive."

The kings silent for a moment. "Thank you," he mutters beside him eventually, voice quiet. 

Merlin looks at him, surprised to hear the words come out of the royal's mouth. He smiles. "It's not a problem."

Perhaps the prat had manners after all.


	4. A Mother's Worry

Arthur keeps his gaze locked on the forest around him, scanning through the trees that pass in search of any of his knights, or Cenred's for that matter. He heaves a sigh when he finds no sign of them, not even a trail of footsteps or broken branches to indicate someone is nearby.

He glances at the peasant beside him, getting a better look at the strange idiot. His big ears and sharp cheekbones seem to be his most distinguishing features. He has a mop of ebony hair on his head and blue eyes that seem carefree and cheerful. His pale complexion and lanky frame did cause the king to worry about the boy's health though. His clothes seem to hang off his small body and looked to be much too thin for winter use. 

Arthur looks down at the basket in the boy's other hand, feeling guilt wash over him at the sight of the crushed mushrooms inside. For all he knew, that was all the boy had to eat.

"Um..." Arthur begins, "I'm sorry for the mushrooms. I can buy some more for you in the market... or wherever you get mushrooms."

The boy turns his head to look at him and shrugs, or shrugs as best he can while half carrying a grown man on his shoulders. "It's alright. I can always find more tomorrow," he says.

"Alright."

The conversation dies away after that. The boy turns his head back around, looking straight ahead at the path in front of him. 

Arthur's eyes skirt along the forest floor, feeling a sense of unease at the silence. For someone that seemed to talk so much when they met, the boy's awfully quiet at the moment. He tries to come up with a topic of conversation, the silence is starting to eat away at his nerves, making him want to jump at every sound.

Before he's able to speak, the boy asks, "I never got your name. What is it?"

The king lets out a quiet breath of relief, "Name's Arthur Pendragon. You?"

"I'm Merlin," the boy grins, looking back towards him.

"Why were you in that crevice? Were you following me?" Arthur asks. The question had been circling about in his head since he met the young lad.

Merlin huffs, "I was there first! You crawled in after me!"

"But why? Do mushrooms grow down there?"

Merlin rolls his eyes, "No, I heard the knights chasing you and hid."

"Then-"

Before Arthur could finish, a rumble sounds overhead, no doubt from distant thunder. The two look up at the sky, seeing drops of rain begin to fall from the sky. "I hope we're close to your home," Arthur says instead, lifting a hand up to shield his face.

"We should be almost there," Merlin says, jutting his chin towards an opening in the trees.

They stumble out of the forest and into a large clearing. A small village is situated in the grassy area. Small, stone houses with straw-like roofs stand strong around fields of crops. A path winds through in between the houses while wagons, barrels and stacks of wood line the sides. 

Merlin smiles when the village come into view. He starts hurrying over, almost dragging the king now as he barrels towards the row of houses. 

Arthur can't help but stare at the passing villagers. He sees farmers scurrying back to their homes from the fields and mothers grabbing their children and pulling them into shelter. Just the sight of the small village makes his heart warm in his chest. He remembers back to when, at one point, he entertained the idea of running away from his duties. Running to a place where no one knew him, where he could start a family and live peacefully. No obligations, no worries. He wonders now if this could have been his life.

The rain starts coming down hard by the time Merlin stops in front of a house. He throws open the door, helping Arthur through the narrow passage before settling him down onto a nearby bench. Arthur lets out a breath at finally being able to rest.

He looks around the small house, surprised to find it only about twice the size of his own chambers back in Camelot. A small fire pit is in the centre of the room, radiating a pleasant heat that helps to dry his damp clothes. The house is separated into two rooms. The dining table and bench faces the corner of the inner room while a small bed is pushed up against a wall. Pots and jars line the dusty shelves while the cupboards are filled with plates and food. A trunk sits beside a bedroll on the ground against another corner in the outer room, filled with what Arthur isn't certain. The small kitchen lies across from the dining table where a woman stands by a cooking pot, wooden spoon in hand as she stares in confusion at the two boys.

"Merlin," the woman says, pursing her lips, "who is this?"

Merlin scratches at the back of his head. "Mother, um... I'm sorry. I found him injured in the woods and I couldn't leave him there because it was about to rain so I brought him here and-"

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"You're rambling again."

Merlin looks down at the ground, slightly embarrassed.

The woman sighs, turning back to the cooking pot and stirring its contents. "At least this is better than the time you brought home a dozen rabbits."

"Those poor rabbits needed me!" 

Arthur stifles a chuckle. "A dozen rabbits?"

Merlin turns, face red, towards the snickering king. "I was only ten summers at the time."

Arthur laughs before turning towards the woman, who he now knows is Merlin's mother. "I'm sorry for my sudden arrival," Arthur says, giving a small bow as best he can, "I could stay in a nearby inn if you could point me in the right direction."

The woman turns back to look at him, "There is no inn here. The village is rather small you see, never many visitors. I don't mind you staying. You seem to be a polite young man."

Arthur feels his chest swell with pride at the woman's words. He sits up a little straighter, presenting himself in a more proper manner. "I thank you for your hospitality um..."

"Hunith."

"Hunith," Arthur says with a smile.

Merlin snickers beside him. "Polite? Mother, you're giving him more credit than he deserves. A pig has better manners than him," Merlin says with a laugh as he places the basket down onto the table.

Arthur only scoffs at him, about to get up onto his feet before wincing with pain. He slumps back down in his seat, looking down at his injured leg. 

Merlin stops laughing, eyes filling with concern as he kneels down beside the king to inspect his injured leg. He yanks off the man's boot then rolls up his pant leg. The skin around the ankle is bruised a dark purple, making Merlin frown. "I can get you something to ease the pain, but..." Merlin shakes his head, "the only way for it to heal properly would be to stay off it. You most likely broke a bone." The boy gets up and heads towards the trunk by the bedroll. 

"You're a physician?" Arthur asks, turning his head to follow after the peasant with an eyebrow raised. He had to admit, he's surprised the idiot seemed somewhat knowledgable in the field.

Merlin pulls out a potion bottle, reading the label before shutting the lid to the chest. "No, but I have learned from a physician." He holds the potion out towards the king.

Arthur eyes it cautiously, taking the bottle gingerly from the boy's grasp. He reads the label, making sure it did what the boy said it would. 

Merlin notices the knight's behaviour and rolls his eyes. "If I had wanted to kill you I would have done so in the forest."

Arthur glances towards him, seeing the irritated look on his face as he slumps down in the empty spot beside him. Arthur pulls off the cork and downs the potion. His face scrunches up with disgust at the taste, but he keeps it down. He sets the bottle on the table, feeling the pain slowly beginning to ebb away. He rolls down his trouser leg and pulls back on his boot just as Hunith sets down three bowls of stew on the table before she sits down herself. 

Merlin smiles down at the food, a look of hunger in his eyes as he slurps down his first spoonful greedily.  

Arthur picks up his spoon, poking at the small chunks of meat in his bowl. He takes a whiff. It smells decent, nothing as fancy as the food from the palace kitchens for sure but not bad either. He tries a tentative spoonful. A small breath of relief escapes when he doesn't gag from the taste. 

Merlin snickers beside him. "I'm sorry the food isn't up to your standards," he mocks, "but I think it should help you to slim down."

Arthur growls at him, "Are you calling me fat?"

Merlin looks away, acting innocent, "Well your big arse did almost crush me in that crevice."

"I am not fat," Arthur says, jabbing the spoon towards Merlin's face.

Merlin tries his hardest to stifle back a laugh. "Are you threatening me with a spoon?"

Arthur raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on his face as he whacks the peasant on the head. 

\------

Hunith look between the two boys with a smile, thoroughly amused at their bantering. She stirs her spoon around the stew, having yet to eat a bite. It's refreshing to see her little boy having fun with a new friend. It had always been hard for him to make friends around his own age, not only because of his magic, but simply because there weren't many people around his age in the village. There had only ever been Will. 

Hunith chuckles again as Merlin manages to wrench the spoon from Arthur's grasp. He stands up on the bench in triumph, using his ability to stand to his advantage. Arthur grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not fair," he mumbles.

"All is fair in love and war!" Merlin declares with a laugh.

"Now now boys. Sit down and eat your dinner," Hunith chides with a smile.

Merlin sits back down, dumping the spoon back into Arthur's bowl. Arthur gives a cheeky grin before taking another bite of his stew. 

"So Arthur, are you a knight?" she asks, bringing her cup of water up to her lips. The man dressed similarly to a knight for sure. He had on full chainmail and a pauldron. A sword rested by his thigh and his body seems to fit the description of a battle hardened warrior.

"King actually," Arthur says, looking quite proud of himself, "King of Camelot, to be exact."

The cup slips from Hunith's grip. The water spills out over the table before the metal clatters against the wood. Both Merlin and Arthur turn towards her, surprised to see her with her eyes wide and fingers trembling. Merlin gets up immediately, kneeling down next to her and gripping at her shoulders. He gives her a gentle shake. "Are you alright?" he asks frantically, "what's wrong?"

Hunith shakes out of her reverie before smiling back at her son. "Nothing. It's alright," she says.

Merlin looks at her worriedly before moving back to his seat. Arthur regards her with curiosity before turning back to his meal, missing the cold stare boring into him by the woman sitting across from him.

\-----

Merlin sets up the spare bedroll for the king on the ground before helping the man to lie down. Arthur turns over in his bed, curling himself into the blanket. Merlin yawns, stretching his arms in the air as he prepares himself for sleep. Before he gets the chance to lie down, he sees his mother gesturing for him. He raises an eyebrow as he walks over, making sure to keep quiet as the king sleeps.

She leads him outside where the rain has already stopped. The ground is still muddy and puddles have formed along the path. The clouds are beginning to disperse, revealing the hidden moon and stars. 

Hunith shuts the door behind her, crossing her arms over her chest. She begins to pace around nervously. Merlin watches her, confused. "Mother? What's wrong?"

She stops, turning to look at him. "Merlin, you heard what he said. He is the King of Camelot, son of Uther Pendragon."

Merlin nods, "I know..."

"Are you not worried? You're a warlock. He... he could..." she doesn't finish. Tears are already streaming down her face at the very thought of what could happen to her baby boy.

Merlin cups her face in his hands. He wipes the tears from her eyes, giving her his most confident smile. "It's alright. I'll be careful. He doesn't have to know."

She wipes the tears from her face, "I'm sorry. You know I'm always afraid for your safety."

Merlin chuckles, planting a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead. "I won't do anything to worry you. I promise."

Hunith smiles, pulling her son in for a hug before heading back inside. 

Merlin follows after her, settling back down on his bedroll next to the king. Merlin shuffles on the bed, noticing Arthur still awake beside him, staring. 

"What were you two doing outside?" he asks, eyes curious.

Merlin gives a small smile, "Nothing. Just... enjoying the night air."

Arthur watches the boy skeptically before tuning around to lie on his back. "You sleep like this every night?" 

Merlin snorts, "Not everyone has the luxury of a bed, your royal pratness."

He hears Arthur chuckle beside him, "You know, most people don't have the courage to insult a king."

"What about insulting a prat?"

A pillow hits his face, bringing a smile to the boy's face.

"Shut up, Merlin," the king says with a smile before turning over, stuffing the pillow back under his head. 

Merlin chuckles, "Good night, sire," he says mockingly as he turns around and shuts his eyes.  

\-----

A loud knock echoes around the room, only ceasing once the door is wrenched open. Morgana glares at the man that stands outside, clothes soaked through with rain at having travelled through the storm. 

"I hope you have a good reason coming here," the woman hisses as she ushers him.

Agravaine smiles, seeming proud while he seats himself down onto a nearby chair. "Oh, I do," He leans in, a devilish smirk on his face, "I found him."

The witch's eyes immediately light up. Her pupils blowing wide and expression growing frantic. "Emrys?"

His smile widens. He pulls out a map, rolling it out on the table and pointing towards a small village. "Ealdor. That's where he is said to live."

Morgana snatches the map off the table. Her fingers tremble as she stares. Her grip tightens around the parchment with each passing moment, causing creases to form and spread along the page like cobwebs. 

"Emrys..." she mutters through clenched teeth. "Where did you-"

"Arthur."

"Arthur?"

"He didn't say where he got the information from, but he said Emrys is in Ealdor. He's headed there now as we speak."

A smile appears on Morgana's face, cutting through the anger previously there. She turns towards Agravaine, eyes alight with amusement. "Then we best not keep him waiting. After all, it's been so long since I've last seen my dear brother."


	5. The Boy From Ealdor

Arthur wakes to the smell of freshly baked bread. He sits up, a dreamy smile on his face as he takes a big whiff. He licks his lips in anticipation, mouth watering at the very though of breakfast. 

He stretches his arms in the air, letting out a quiet yawn. He turns towards the windows, seeing the sun filtering through the open windows and the white, fluffy clouds in the sky. The sound of birds chirping, and chickens clucking mix in with the hustle and bustle of the other villagers outside, already up and about. 

Arthur smiles, for once feeling the weight of obligation lift off his shoulders. He looks towards the inner room, seeing Hunith preparing a meal while Merlin looks over her shoulder, chatting with her idly with a wide smile on his face. Neither have noticed him wake.

He basks in the peace for a moment, simply watching the two smile and laugh with each other. He feels a wistful smile cross his face, before turning away, smile dropping. He can't help but envy the pairs relationship with each other. He wonders if his mother would have been like this as well.

Merlin's the first to notice him awake. He sends him a beaming smile, one that stretches from ear to ear. "Rise and shine," he says cheekily.

Arthur smiles back at him, struggling to his feet before Merlin approaches and helps him up. He sits the king down on the bench while Hunith sets down a plate of bread and cheese in front of him. 

Arthur licks his lips, feeling his stomach rumble. "It's delicious," he says after taking a large bite.

Hunith smiles, wiping her hands off on her apron. "It's not a problem."

Arthur looks away from Hunith to see Merlin lugging two, what Arthur assumes are, makeshift crutches into the house. He leans them against the table beside Arthur, again with that ear to ear grin on his face. He rests a hand on one of them, "I made these for you this morning. Should help you walk, hopefully," Merlin says.

Arthur reaches a hand out, taking the two sticks in hand and using it to try and stand. They hold firm, helping to keep him balanced and to hold his weight. "Thank you, Merlin," he says, genuinely meaning every word.

Merlin smiles again, ripping a small chunk off Arthur's bread and receiving an irritated glare from the king before saying, "When you finish eating, I'll show you around Ealdor."

Arthur almost chokes on his food at the boy's words. He coughs a couple times, pounding at his chest until he can breath again. He looks up at him, eyes wide and hands trembling. "...E-Ealdor?" he manages to stutter out, voice still hoarse. 

Merlin raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on the bread. "Yes, Ealdor. It's the village name."

Arthur grabs at the boy's shoulders, spinning him around so they are face to face. Arthur's mind is spinning with the sudden discovery, the sense of duty returning. "Is there a man, or anyone for that matter, named Emrys here in Ealdor?"

Merlin shakes his head, still slightly confused at the king's sudden outburst. Hunith has turned around as well, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the king's grip on her son.

Arthur leans in closer, speaking in a hushed tone. "Then what about a sorcerer? Is there a sorcerer here?"

Arthur can feel the boy stiffen under his grip. He notices Merlin's eyes going wide with fear and trepidation. His fingers twitch at his sides, before it all disappears just as quickly as it had happened. The carefree glint returns in his eyes. His shoulders slump back down and his body relaxes. He smiles at him, and brushes the king's hands away nonchalantly. "No. There are no sorcerers here in Ealdor. Ask anyone, I'm sure they'll tell you the same."

Arthur eyes him wearily. The confidence in Merlin's voice makes him question the falsity in his words. 

He turns to look at Hunith who has her eyes trained on him. Her hands seem to be shaking slightly, grip firm around the handle of a wooden spoon. His eyes narrow on her. He wonders why she seems to be so on edge. "There are no sorcerers here, my lord," she says, voice suddenly cold, but steady.

Arthur looks away, eyeing them both one last time before retuning to his meal. He'll question the villagers. Someone is sure to answer his questions honestly.

\-----

News had spread fast through the small village about the injured knight. Many of the villagers had witnessed the arrival of the man during the storm the previous day and spread the news quickly of the  young gentlemen. They whispered amongst themselves, wondering why he's here and what he's doing with the young warlock. They would look on in silent awe from their windows as the man passed, Merlin following behind him, but the wonder soon changed to scorn as word spread about the identity of the handsome knight. He is the King of Camelot. 

Arthur had made his way through the village as best he could in the morning, questioning each villager who passed about the man named Emrys or any sorcerers nearby. The first few men he had asked treated him kindly enough. They would bow when he approached, a cheerful smile on their faces while he asked his questions. Except on each occasion, the men would scowl at him when he mentioned his name or about the sorcerer. Their gaze would darken. They would shake their heads and tell him there are no sorcerers here before turning around and continuing with their work, sending Arthur nasty glares until he left. A few had pulled Merlin aside, whispering words into his ear as they eyed the king. Merlin would brush them away with a smile, muttering words in response the king couldn't here before turning back towards Arthur with another one of his goofy grins.

Soon, the people had simply refused to talk to him. The villagers would send him angered stares. They would watch him pass, all work ceasing until he moved away. A few children even ran at him at one point, fake wooden swords in hand as they stood between him and Merlin. They growled at him, pointing their swords towards him. 

"Stay away! Bad man!" they had shouted, brandishing their weapons.

Arthur had smiled at the children calmly, trying to show he meant no harm. "I don't-"

"Papa said you were a bad man!" one child said. 

"Mama said you would hurt Merlin!" another yelled.

Arthur had raised an eyebrow when he heard the oddly specific accusation. He glanced up towards Merlin who only shrugged, bending down before telling the children nothing was wrong and sending them home grumbling. Merlin had pulled him away after that towards the edge of the forest. 

That's where the king sits now. He leans against a tree, staring off suspiciously at the village a short distance away. The people continue to wander about, but he can catch a few turning their heads to look at him every once in awhile, as though they didn't trust him.

Arthur glances towards Merlin, who's sitting on the grass beside him, leaning up against the same tree. Arthur's brows furrow. Why did the children think he would hurt Merlin? Yes, he is a trained knight and has killed many people before, but he wouldn't hurt Merlin. How could he? The boy's too innocent to hurt a rabbit. He doesn't seem to have a single bad bone in him. 

"Arthur?" Merlin suddenly says, poking at his cheek.

The king looks up, finding the boy's face only inches away from his own. He jumps, smashing his head against the trunk of the tree. He can feel a light blush creep up his face at Merlin's closeness. He only realizes now how adorable the boy really looks what with the pale skin and big ears. He quickly looks away, hiding his flustered expression. A king does not act flustered. 

Merlin purses his lips, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You really ought to be more careful, hitting your head too often can't be good for you. Maybe that's why you seem dazed so often..."

Arthur rolls his eyes, pushing the boy back before turning around to look at him. "It's called thinking. It would do you well to try it sometimes."

Merlin stifles a laugh, "I never knew dollop-head's could think."

Arthur glares at the boy, trying to express his anger. After all, no one can insult the king in such a way, except a smile breaks across his face instead. He shakes his head, hardly believing he's becoming fond of the boy and his witty remarks already after such a short amount of time. He reminded Arthur of Gwaine. A loud mouth idiot unwilling to respect royals although Merlin is far less annoying, which is something Arthur is grateful for. 

The king smirks, wrapping an arm around the boy's neck. He yanks him in, causing Merlin to almost topple onto the king's lap as said king grinds a fist against the top of the boy's head. Merlin squeals under him, laughing as he tries to wrench himself free from the king's grip. Arthur laughs as well, keeping his arm firm around the boy.

"Ow, ow, ow! Arthur stop! I'm sorry!" Merlin laughs, finally managing to untangle himself.

He rolls off onto the grass, still giggling to himself with his hair disheveled and sticking up at odd angles. Merlin reaches a hand up and smoothes it down as he sits back up beside the king. The boy smiles at him. "Feeling better?" 

Arthur sighs under his breath, shaking his head while a smile still sits across his face. He gently shoves the boy's shoulder. "Is this your way of making me smile?"

Merlin shrugs, acting ignorant as he looks out towards his home in the distance. "Perhaps. You were looking a little anguished."

Arthur chuckles, leaning back against the tree. "You're an odd one, Merlin."

They boy gives a knowing smirk, "It's all part of my charm."

\-----

The two return to Merlin's home by sun down, still chatting idly as they turn through the winding paths of the village. The villagers look on, gazing curiously at the odd duo. The King of Camelot and a warlock, two people that are meant to be sworn enemies talking and laughing as though they are the best of friends. None could doubt Merlin's friendliness. He's bright, cheerful, and always willing to lend a hand when need be, but nonetheless they are still pleasantly surprised he had managed to befriend the king. A king that would watch him burn if his secret is ever revealed.

Merlin opens the door to his home, still laughing too hard from Arthur's ranting about one of his knights named Sir Gwaine. "And the man can drink the whole cellar of a tavern by himself! Honestly, how he manages to stay sober is beyond me," Arthur says with a shake of his head, showing his disappointment.

Merlin laughs, shutting the door behind him. "Why did you knight him if he's such a drunk?" 

"Because despite his many flaws he's a competent swordsman and a loyal friend." Arthur says, sitting down on the bench to rest.

"You mean you have other friends?" Merlin stifles a chuckle, sitting down beside him. "How did you manage that?"

Arthur tries to smack the boy on the head only for Merlin to get up and move away easily. Arthur growls at him, feeling irritated that he can't stand properly, but smiles at their playful shenanigans. 

"Sire?" a voice suddenly says from the kitchen. 

Arthur turns, recognizing the voice immediately. It would be hard not to, he's known the old man for as long as he could remember. Before the king is able to say anything, Merlin pipes up first.

"Gaius!" 

\-----

Morgana stands by the forest's edge, gazing out over the little village of Ealdor. She can see the small glimmer of candles and torches light up around the houses as farmers settled down for the night. She smiles to herself, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she turns back around, heading back deep into the shadows of the trees hoping to prepare her small army for tomorrow night.


	6. Convergence

"Gaius!" Merlin says happily, dashing forward towards the old man.

He throws his arms around him, giving the physician a welcoming embrace. Merlin's first thought is to ask Gaius if he had brought any more spell books for him to study from before he remembers the king sitting on the bench behind him and bites his tongue. He backs away, a smile still on his face as Arthur limps over, face filled with shock.

"Gaius? Wh-What are you doing here? Why are you here?" he asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth in an awkward stream.

Gaius raises an eyebrow, eyeing the king with interest as he looks him up and down. "I should be asking you such a question, my lord. As for me, I had come on a visit. I told you before, an old friend of mine lives here. Might I ask, what happened to you?"

"I... um..."

"He jumped off a cliff," Merlin says, trying to hide a smirk as Arthur turns to glare at him.

Gaius' eyes widen. He looks towards Arthur, who has shrunken in on himself, looking embarrassed by his actions. The physician sighs, gesturing for Arthur to seat himself down onto the bench. Arthur obliges, sitting down and lifting up his injured leg for Gaius to examine. 

Merlin stands to the side as Gaius works, watching his mentor intently. He asks questions from time to time, taking a keen interest in the old man's duties as a physician. He helps by gathering Gaius' supplies. He dashes back and forth around the two rooms, occasionally digging through his trunk to bring out a herb or a potion Gaius had requested. 

Once Gaius is finished he stands, his old bones creaking with the movement. He hands Merlin his supplies to store away before turning back to the king. "You're on your way to recovery, sire," Gaius says, "though you will need to stay off that leg for at least another few weeks."

"Another few weeks?! Gaius, I need to find Emrys and I have a kingdom to run! You can't expect me to stay here until I'm recovered."

"If you wish for it to heal properly then you must wait."

Arthur mutters under his breath, arms crossed over his chest. "Is there no other way?"

Gaius shakes his head. "Unless you use magic, my lord, there is not."

Merlin stiffens immediately at the words. He peers over his shoulder nervously, pretending to act busy while watching Arthur's expression turn stone cold. The king scowls, putting his leg back down rather roughly. His brows furrow in concentration, making Arthur look anguished. Merlin sighs. If he's to be honest with himself, he enjoys the king's company. He wants to be his friend, but clearly, judging by the king's previous look of disgust at the mention of sorcery, that won't be possible. He can't stop the slight ache in his chest at the thought. 

\-----

Arthur catches Merlin's gaze in the middle of the boy's brooding. He sees Merlin's expression drop, looking sullen as he watches the king from where he's storing away the supplies. Arthur feels a faint sting in his chest at the sight. It's the kind of sting that didn't hurt much, but will persist for some time, throbbing under his skin and causing irritation throughout the rest of the day. He's unable to pinpoint why his chest hurt. Perhaps it's from seeing the usually cheerful boy with such a sour look on his face. Perhaps it's something else entirely. He can't be sure. Whatever the reason may be one thing's for sure, he didn't like to see Merlin with a frown on his face. 

He relaxes himself. The furrows on his brows disappear. He lets a smile cross on his face, making sure to show Merlin there is nothing for him to worry about. He sees the boy smile back, albeit a little wistfully. 

"If you do not mind me asking, sire," Gaius says suddenly, startling the king back to attention. Arthur tears his gaze away from Merlin, feeling the stinging in his chest once again. "How did you manage to meet Hunith?"

"Merlin found me," Arthur replies, gesturing towards the boy, "I was injured in the forest after Cenred's men attacked me."

"What happened to your knights?" 

The king shrugs. "I only hope they managed to escape."

Gaius nods. "I'll head back to Camelot in a few days time. I'll inform the council on your whereabouts and send a few knights to retrieve you."

"I need to find Emrys first."

Gaius sighs, "You can worry about him later," he gives the king a stern glare, like one from any worried physician to their patient. "But for now, you must heal."

Arthur grumbles under his breath, knowing there is no point in arguing with Gaius any further.

\-----

The next day, the king and the warlock head out into the village once more. The king, determined to find the man he's been looking for before he needs to leave, drags the reluctant peasant out into the village for another round of searching. 

Again, the villagers regard Arthur with suspicion. They keep a watchful eye on him as they work, ensuring he won't lay a finger on the warlock beside him. They steer clear of the king when he approaches, unwilling to answer anymore questions. 

Merlin grumbles beside Arthur as they make their way through the village, having already made two trips around the whole area. He looks towards Arthur, seeing him swivelling his head about, still looking for any signs of this Emrys he's been searching for. 

"So," Merlin begins, catching Arthur's attention, "you're leaving soon."

Arthur nods. "Seems I'll finally be rid of you," he says with a playful smirk.

Merlin laughs, shoving the king lightly on the shoulder, not wanting to actually knock him over. "And I'll finally be rid of your royal arse. I can have my peace and quiet at last."

Arthur chuckles. "Idiot."

"Prat."

They remain silent for a moment, both smiling to themselves before Merlin lets his expression drop. "I'll miss you," he says, surprised at his own honesty.

"I'll miss you too."

Merlin looks to Arthur, even more shocked to hear the words coming from the king. Arthur turns away, pretending to search for Emrys again in order to hide his face. 

Merlin chuckles to himself, amused to see the king acting like a blushing maiden. 

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur grumbles, hearing the boy's snickering.

That only makes Merlin laugh even harder. Arthur mumbles to himself, something about staying away from big eared peasants next time before he almost stumbles over a man. Merlin manages to catch the king. He helps him to regain his balance before the man speaks. 

"I heard you were skivvying for some king," Will says, arms crossed as he eyes the two, "seems it was true."

Merlin gives a snort, "I'm not his skivvy."

Will raises an amused eyebrow. He turns to glare at Arthur. "Heard you were searching for some sorcerer."

Arthur eyes the man curiously, sizing him up. "Yes, and do you know where I'll find one here?"

Will only scoffs at him. 

Merlin shakes his head vigorously behind the king, trying to signal his friend to not provoke Arthur only for Will to ignore him. "There's none here. Now get out. We don't want your kind here," Will says rather rudely.

Merlin hangs his head in shame. He can already see the anger rising in the king's eyes as the knight takes a step forward. "My kind?"

Will scoffs, "Nobles. You lot are always marching about acting all high and mighty. You may be a king but you aren't one here. Now leave, no one wants you."

Arthur moves even closer until the two are almost touching. He glares at Will, somehow able to look imposing despite the two crutches in his hands. A low growl rumbles in Arthur's throat as he grits his teeth. "Do not think I will hesitate to run you through."

Will snorts, finding the king more amusing than intimidating. He's about to respond before Merlin pulls him aside harshly by the collar. Merlin sends Arthur an apologetic smile before dragging Will into the stables nearby. He shoves him against the wall, arms crossed and angry. "Do you wish to die?" Merlin hisses, keeping his voice low.

Will looks away and scoffs. "I'm only trying to help you."

Merlin rolls his eyes. "And making him angry is helping?"

"The longer he stays the more chances he has of finding out you have magic," Will says, emphasizing the last few words.

Merlin turns away so his back is facing Will. He heaves a sigh, "I know, but there is no need to act in such a manner. You'll only make him suspicious."

Will scoffs again, but doesn't argue, seeing the truth in his friends words. "Alright. I'll leave him alone, but if I hear he's-"

"I'll be fine," Merlin says, giving his friend a smile. "Trust me."

Will sighs, pushing past Merlin and leaving the stables. He sends Arthur one last glare before leaving.

Merlin pokes his head out a moment later, giving Arthur a wide smile. "I'm sorry," he says, heading back towards the king. "He's not quite fond of... noblemen."

Arthur huffs as he continues to glare at Will's receding back. "I think that was evident."

Merlin scratches the back of his head, unsure of how to calm the king. "Will's father died while in service to King Cenred. He's had a distrust for nobles ever since."

Arthur growls. "That is no excuse."

Merlin sighs, "I know, but please, ignore his insults." He looks at the king pleadingly.

Arthur groans. "Alright, but I'm doing it for you. Not for him."

Merlin's face lights up, a beaming smile on his face.

\-----

A hooded figure stands a short distance away, pretending to examine one of the fabrics being sold in a market stall. Morgana runs a finger over the cloth, feeling the smoothness as she watches the king's reflection through a mirror on the stand. She cocks her head to the side, curious at the sight of her brother with someone else other than his knights. The boy is lanky. He's tall, thin, and pale with a mop of black hair on his head. He's smiling at Arthur widely, talking and gesticulating with his hands as they walk past. Morgana's eyes narrow, trailing the slimmer man.

She turns back towards the merchant who has been watching her curiously the entire time, hoping she would purchase the cloth she's been holding. She sets the fabric down and smiles sweetly. "I don't think it suits me. Yellow is not quite my colour you see. A little too bright for me."

\-----

Merlin sighs as he heads through the town once more. The sun has already disappeared from the sky, leaving the moon and the stars to rein down upon the kingdom. 

He looks down at the vial in his hand, reciting the instructions Gaius had told him to inform the receiver about the medication. This had always been one of the few things he disliked about Gaius' visits. He would always have him make his deliveries. 

Merlin sighs and trudges on, hoping Arthur hadn't wolfed down all the stew by the time he returns home. 

"A pleasant evening, isn't it?" A sweet voice suddenly says from behind him. 

Merlin stops and turns. A woman dressed fully in black stands behind him. She approaches, walking forward with grace as she looks him up and down. Merlin can't help but take a step back the closer she gets. He isn't sure why, but her gaze sends shivers down his spine. All his instincts scream at him to run, to bolt and hide, but the woman's stare keeps him grounded. 

She moves closer, reaching a hand out to run down the side of his cheek until it stops at his chin. Her hands are pale and cold and makes him tremble slightly. 

"What's your name?" she asks, voice sly.

He hesitates for a moment, but the woman unnerved him enough as it is. He didn't want to see her angry. "It's... um... it's Merlin," he says, sounding much smaller than he had hoped.

She smiles, tilting her head. "Tell me, why are you with the king?"

Again, he hesitates, unsure of what to say. He's always had a quiet life. The most dangerous thing he ever faced had been Kanen, but this woman...

"Answer me boy," she suddenly says, tone dark. Her grip tightens around his chin, pulling it forward.

"He's my... friend?" he manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

The woman's grip loosens. She takes a step back a wide grin spreading across her face.

\-----

Arthur leans against the window sill, panic and fear rising in his chest. He's leaning heavily against the wall, grip tightening to the point his knuckles are turning white. 

"Sire," Gaius calls, walking over to him. "Are you alright?" 

Arthur swallows the lump in his throat, refusing to tear his gaze away from the horizon. Instead of answering, he raises a hand towards the window, pointing towards the speckles of light surrounding the edges of the forest and the army amassed behind it.


	7. Morgana's Assault

A shiver runs down Merlin's spine as a smirk curls across the woman's face. She takes a step forward, her eyes sparking with a maniacal glint. Merlin begins to back away on wobbling feet. He feels his knees knocking together, his hands trembling at his sides as he continues to distance himself from the strange woman. He glances around, hoping to find some form of weapon nearby like a shovel or a broom only to find nothing.

Merlin's back hits a fence behind him. His grip tightens around the wooden posts as he tries to lean away from the woman that approaches. He almost topples backwards over the railing before a hand suddenly shoots out and grabs him. Merlin winces as the woman's grip tightens around his wrist. Her cold skin seems to freeze him still as she pulls him closer towards her, the wide grin still on her face. 

Merlin struggles against her grip, desperately trying to wrench his arm free only to have her grip tighten even more. Her smile turns into one of amusement as she watches the boy struggle. A giggle rises in the soundless night as she yanks him forward till their faces are only mere inches apart. She grabs at his face with her free hand, turning it from side to side as though inspecting him. 

"I wonder what Arthur sees in you," she coos with curiosity, eyes narrowing, "you seem like nothing special."

Merlin bites his tongue from a retort. He tries to lean away, but the woman's hold is firm. Merlin can feel his magic itching under his skin, sensing his fear and wanting to lash out. He keeps it down, not knowing what the woman is capable of. For all he knows, provoking her could make things much worse and besides, he'd rather not hurt people. Even if it is some crazed woman.

His eyes wander, searching for any way to escape from the situation. His gaze soon lingers to a spot above the woman's head and he can feel his breath catch in his throat. There, in the distance, torches are alight. The balls of fire line the edge of the forest, moving closer and closer the longer Merlin watches. He begins to breath in short, rapid breaths, fearing for the worst. 

The woman seems to notice what he's staring at. She smirks, the devilish grin appearing once again on her face. "My men," she answers without Merlin even asking, "they're here to make sure no one makes it out alive."

Merlin's gaze hardens. His fists clench at his sides. The threat to his home now overriding the fear inside him. He can see the men reaching the gates to the village. They lift up their torches, tossing them along the path and setting the fields ablaze. His magic travels towards his fingertips, ready to attack when the command is given.

"Perhaps I'll let them live," she says, pulling him a little closer, "if you take me to Arthur of course." The smile appears again. 

Merlin grits his teeth. His eyes dart around, seeing the fires littering the edges of the village. He hears shouts begin to rise up from a few of the houses as families frantically try and escape the inferno. He's tempted to give her what she wants, but the thought of betraying Arthur makes him reconsider. He cares for the king, more than he probably should considering the man is a prat and will have him killed if he discovers the truth. Nevertheless, Arthur's his friend and he refuses to allow this woman to bring Arthur any harm. Besides, who's to say she'll keep her word?

"No," Merlin says, voice firm with resolution.

Instantly, the smile disappears. Clearly, she isn't accustomed to being disobeyed. Her eyes widens and they flash gold. Before Merlin can react, he's thrown backwards. His back crashes through the rickety fence behind him. He skids across the grass, the breath knocked out of him as he tumbles across the dirt. He coughs, trying to get air back into his lungs as the woman stalks forwards. She towers over him, eyes devoid of emotion. She grabs him again, pulling him up to his feet by the collar. 

"No matter, I'll find him. I'm sure my brother will be willing to surrender when I threaten his little friend," she says, running a hand down the side of his face.

Merlin scoffs at her, starting to thrash about as she drags him towards a row of houses, probably in search of Arthur. Merlin shuts his eyes, concentrating on the thrum of power coursing madly through his veins. He knows his magic wants to run rampant, attain revenge for this mindless destruction, but he holds himself back, only allowing a little of his magic to seep through to the surface. When he opens them they're a bright gold. The woman is pushed back slightly, her grip loosening from his collar as she staggers on her feet. "You're a sorcerer," she says, eyes wide and slightly fearful.

Merlin says nothing. He keeps his expression calm, devoid of the fear that's beginning to resurface. He's never been in a real fight before. Kanen had simply run off once he demonstrated his talents, but he's never harmed anyone. He doesn't know if he can.

The woman raises a hand, starting to stumble backwards. He can see her muttering a name faintly, over and over again. The name is one he remembers hearing Arthur mention on numerous occasions.  

Emrys.

So the woman is searching for that man as well. He doesn't understand why she suddenly began muttering the man's name but before more questions are able to form in Merlin's head, he's thrown backwards. This time much harder than before.  

\-----

Arthur turns towards the door in a hurry, grabbing his sword that's leaning against the wall. Before he's able to take another step he winces in pain, almost forgetting his broken leg. Gaius reaches for him, holding him back as the king continues to head towards the door.

"Sire, you mustn't go. It's too dangerous," Gaius warns in a stern voice.

"Merlin," Arthur says, voice sounding a little desperate, "he's outside. He-he'll be killed."

Gaius shoves the king backwards onto the bench. Hunith stares out the window, a worried look in her eyes as she watches the lights move closer and closer, bringing the army along with it. 

Arthur scowls at the physician, "Let me go, that is an order from your king."

Gaius only shakes his head, "You are injured. You'll die."

"And Merlin will too if we leave him out there!" Arthur shouts, gaining the attention of Hunith. 

"Merlin can protect himself," Gaius assures the king, sending a weary glance towards Hunith who's trying desperately to keep the tears down.

Arthur only shakes his head, "He can't wield a weapon. Those men will tear him to pieces!"

"And what do you expect to do in such state? You can't even walk."

Arthur scowls, knowing the physician is right. What could he do? He'd only be dead weight. He glances out the window, now starting to see fires light up the fields of crops. He shivers at the thought of Merlin burning in the flames, or being pierced through with a sword. He needs to go help. Not only to save Merlin, though that is his main priority, but to save the other villagers as well. He's a king, and a king protects those in need. He glances down at his injured leg, glaring at it angrily as though that would heal it. He looks towards Gaius, who's now attempting to console a crying Hunith. 

"Gaius." 

The old man turns to look at him.

"Is there any way you can heal this?"

Gaius sighs, "I've told you before. It's either you wait for it to heal naturally," he takes in a breath, "or use magic."

Arthur frowns at the mere mention of using sorcery, but the thought of finding Merlin dead when he could have gone to save him makes the king hesitate on rejecting the idea. He has to admit, he's grown fond of the boy. His wide smile and cheerful aura has brought him much comfort when he's stressing over his quest for Emrys, and no matter how much he complained about the boy's rude behaviour towards a king, he secretly loved it. It helped him forget his status for once. It allowed him to shed the mask of King of Camelot and let him simply be Arthur. He could show his true self, do what he wanted without fear of being judged. It was a comfort he never had at home in Camelot and he didn't want to lose it. 

"Do it," Arthur says, voice a little quiet. His father would have been ashamed of him. 

Gaius regards the king with surprise, not daring to say anything.

Arthur sends the physician a stern glare. "I said do it. Use magic, heal my leg. I don't care what you do."

Gaius finally shakes from the shock, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure, my lord?"

"Yes! I'm sure. Now do it before I change my mind," Arthur snaps somewhat angrily as he keeps his eyes trained on the window. 

Gaius nods and moves to kneel by the king. He lifts a hand, hovering it over the injured leg before shutting his eyes and chanting. Arthur makes sure to look away, as though if he doesn't see it happening he won't be breaking the law. He feels a small tingle run through his leg as Gaius' magic does its work. He feels the pain ebb away. He moves his foot, rotating it around and smiling when he feels no pain. Gaius stands, patting the king on the shoulder to indicate he's finished. 

Arthur gets to his feet, putting his weight on his leg to test it. It still aches somewhat, but its well enough for him to walk and fight. He smiles at the physician, "Thank you. Now, Gaius, I want you and Hunith to get out of here. Head into the forest, bring any of the villagers you find with you and don't stop until you're within Camelot's borders."

Gaius nods, moving to help Hunith to quickly gather a few belongings and supplies. 

Arthur grabs his sword and dashes out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

\------

The second Arthur's outside he gags. Smoke fills the air, making it harder to breath. He can hear the screams and shouts of the villagers as, who Arthur assumes are, bandits attack. He sprints along the path, dodging flaming logs or wagons as he scans the area for any sign of Merlin. 

He manages to kill a few of the bandits along the way, ushering many of the frightened villagers towards the safety of the forest as he continues his search. The more of the attackers he faces, the less certain he is that they are simply bandits. They don't seem to be after anything. They haven't stolen any goods nor have they seemed to show any interest to anything other than mindless destruction. Arthur watches the men wearily as he strikes another down. These aren't random bandits, this is a deliberate attack. 

The thought spurs Arthur on further. He calls Merlin's name, thinking perhaps he's trapped under some rubble somewhere. His worry only increases when he hears no response. 

The king doesn't stop until he sees him. A smile crosses Arthur's face at the familiar mop of black hair and the distinct red of the boy's neckerchief. Arthur's about to run to the boy's side when he sees her. Morgana. 

She stands in front of Merlin, towering over his kneeling form. Arthur can see Merlin gripping at his left arm. Blood covers his hand as he tries to put pressure on the wound. Dirt cakes the side of his face and a couple of cuts dripping blood can be seen here or there around his body. 

Arthur begins to see red. His anger boiling over to a maximum at the sight of his injured friend. He stalks forward, sword drawn in his hand as he approaches. He's careful to keep out of sight, not wanting Morgana to see him before he can strike. 

Merlin notices him first. His eyes widens as he watches the king lurk closer. Arthur can see the boy trying to warn him, get him to turn back. The knight only smiles, giving his friend a reassuring grin as he sets his gaze onto Morgana. Now that he's closer he can see the crazed glint in her eyes. She has a wide smile on her face as she holds her hand up, aiming towards Merlin. 

Arthur chooses this moment to strike. He leaps forwards, thrusting his sword through Morgana's chest. He hears her gasp, letting out a strangled cry as she bends forward in pain. 

"Arthur? What are you-" Merlin begins only to be cut off by Arthur grabbing at his injured arm. 

Merlin lets out a wince as he gets to his feet. "I'm sorry," Arthur says, quickly letting go. 

"It's alright," Merlin says, rubbing at the wound.

Arthur gives a sigh of relief at seeing Merlin relatively unharmed. "Come on, let's-"

A laugh interrupts the king's words. Arthur turns, seeing Morgana with the bloody sword in her hand and a wicked smile on her face. He can hear Merlin give a terrified yelp behind him. "How is she still alive?" he whispers.

Arthur doesn't respond, only reaches an arm out to push Merlin behind him. He keeps his eyes trained on Morgana, running through the different ways he could possibly escape.

Morgana's eyes flash gold, sending the king flying backwards into a pile of rubble. Arthur groans in pain, his head spinning at the impact. He can just vaguely make out Morgana's looming figure moving closer. She has the sword in hand, fist clenched tightly around the hilt as she lifts it over her head to strike.

Arthur rolls out of the way just as the blade comes down, stabbing into the dirt. Morgana growls at him. He sees her mutter a few words and her eyes flash gold. Suddenly he freezes, unable to move. He struggles to move his limbs to no avail. His whole body feels heavy, like he suddenly weighs a ton. All he can do is watch helplessly as Morgana frees the sword from the dirt. She moves back towards him, readying herself to aim another blow. Arthur renews his struggle, trying desperately to move but his body refuses to obey. Before the blade is able to strike once more, a loud crash sounds behind Morgana. 

The sword slips from her grip, clattering down amongst the rubble as her body begins to fall forward. Arthur can feel her magic loosen its grip on him. He quickly gets to his feet, moving out of the way as she lands on the ground where he had been lying only a moment before. He turns to see Merlin holding the remnants of a ceramic pot in his hand. His whole body is trembling as he sees the blood on her head. "D-did I kill her?" He asks, voice shaking.

Arthur glances down, seeing her chest still moving up and down. "She's alive, but unconscious."

Merlin drops the remaining pieces of the pot onto the ground, seeming to give a small breath of relief. He takes a step back, looking down nervously at the limp body. 

Arthur can see the boy's shoulders shaking with fear. He can't blame Merlin for being afraid. He had been the same when he fought his first enemy. He remembers always pulling back at the last moment, not wanting to even hurt the man he was fighting. Of course, his father had yelled at him afterwards, claiming he would never last long in a fight if he were to hold back because he was afraid of killing. When he finally did kill someone though he was distraught for days. The feeling of guilt at having ended a man's life kept returning to him, the thoughts about the family the man must have left behind because of him haunted him in his sleep. 

When he had gone to his father with the issue the old king had only laughed. His father had patted him on the shoulder, reassuring the young prince that the first was always the worst, but after awhile it wouldn't matter anymore because it would just become another body amongst the hundreds he already killed. 

That hadn't been true. Even today, he could feel the weight of all those he killed pile up on his shoulders. The only difference was that he had become better at coping with it. 

He never wants Merlin to feel that crushing burden, to face the hardships of battle. At the very least, he never wants Merlin to face it alone. So he reaches out, grasping at the boy's slim hands with his larger calloused ones. He feels his heart jump slightly at the contact, enjoying the feeling of Merlin's hand in his own. He gives a gentle tug, making the boy turn to look at him.

\-----

Merlin can feel his whole body shaking with fear. He looks away from the woman's bleeding head, feeling a sense of guilt settling over him at having hurt someone to such an extent. His mother had always taught him to be kind, to never hurt anyone. He feels as though he's betrayed her at having hurt the woman, no matter how evil she seems to be. 

He feels his fist clench at his sides, still trembling from what he's done. He finds himself not wanting to look down at his hands, afraid of looking at the two things that had caused someone pain. In the middle of his brooding, he can feel a hand unclenching his fingers. He risks a glance down, seeing Arthur's hand holding his. The king gives a little tug, prompting Merlin to look up. His heart skips a little in his chest at the feeling of the knight's warm hand in his own. 

"It's alright," he hears the king say with a slight smile, "she's hurt many people before. She doesn't deserve your sympathy. Come on, we need to go."

Merlin gives a small nod, allowing the king to pull him along towards the safety of the trees. Merlin tightens his hold, squeezing the king's hand as they hide between the rubble and dodge the many men still patrolling the now desecrated village. 

Their hands remain linked together until they reach the safety of Camelot's borders.


	8. The Knights of the Round Table

Arthur keeps running, tugging the peasant boy behind him as they dash through the forest. He keeps their hands linked together as they dodge branches and tree roots littered along the forest floor. 

"A-Arthur?" Merlin says, panting as he struggles to keep up with Arthur's pace.

"Not now, Merlin," Arthur says, not bothering to slow down, "we need to keep going."

"But... I need... to rest." 

Arthur gives the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright. Just a little further and we'll be at the border." He doesn't hear a response, but the gentle tightening of Merlin's grip on his hand gives him the answer he needs. 

Arthur smiles to himself and keeps moving forward, not daring to risk a glance back in fear of finding Morgana's men, or worse Morgana herself, following them through the trees. His leg is already aching, still not fully recovered from his fall despite Gaius' healing magic, but at the very least it no longer hurt to walk or run. 

Arthur lets out a breath at the sight of a familiar part of the forest. The border shouldn't be far now. He grins widely, feeling a spur of energy shoot through him as he barrels towards home. He can hear Merlin gasping for breath behind him now. The boy stumbles, tripping on a root and falling face first into the dirt. 

Arthur skids to a halt. His hand still in Merlin's as he helps him onto his feet. Merlin coughs, ridding the dirt from his mouth and wiping at his face with a sleeve. He looks up towards Arthur, chest heaving up and down with each breath. Arthur watches him worriedly, feeling guilty now for pushing the boy too hard. Unlike him, Merlin doesn't have the stamina of a knight. 

"We can have a quick rest," Arthur says in between pants, keeping on a lookout for any signs of danger.

"No, I'm alright. You're right, we need to keep going," Merlin says, wiping the sweat off his brow.

Arthur looks at him worriedly before giving a slight nod. He continues down the path, making sure to slow his pace for Merlin to keep up. 

The two only stop once Arthur's sure they have crossed the border. The king slumps down against a tree, glancing around in search of some sort of stream or pond that could quench his parched throat. Unfortunately, no matter which direction he turns there are only trees to be seen. The darkness isn't helping either, the moon hardly sheds enough light to see anything. 

Arthur turns to look at the boy beside him. Merlin is slumped down on the ground, taking in large gulps of air as his free hand wipes at his brow. He looks deathly pale in the moonlight and Arthur can see why. Blood continues to drip out of the cut on his left arm, colouring the boy's normally blue tunic a deep shade of purple. He can see Merlin's eyes fluttering slightly, the peasant starting to grow light headed from the loss of blood. 

Arthur scoots closer towards the boy. Reluctantly, he lets go of Merlin's hand, feeling more disappointed than he should at the loss of warmth. He can see Merlin watch him quizzically as the king rips a long strip of cloth off the edge of his tunic. He wraps it around the wound on Merlin's arm, making sure to tie it tight to keep any more blood from flowing out. 

Merlin gives the king a small smile when Arthur finishes, trying his best to look unafraid of the situation at hand. The fake confidence doesn't fool Arthur though. He's seen it enough times on his knights and on himself. 

"It's alright to be afraid, Merlin," Arthur says, trying to reassure the boy. He reaches a hand out, grasping the boy's hand in his own once more. 

Merlin looks down at their hands, but doesn't complain about the contact. Instead, he tightens his grip, seeming to find comfort in the king just as much as Arthur finds comfort in him. "I'm not afraid," Merlin says, heaving a sigh. He looks away, turning to stare at the smoke rising from the burning village in the distance. "I'm just worried... about my mother, Will, Gaius, everyone else in the village."

Arthur looks away, feeling guilt latch itself onto him. Morgana must have followed him somehow. How else could she have found him in Ealdor? She was after him, he was sure of it. He had brought this down upon Merlin's home, nobody else.

He feels someone give him a light shove on the shoulder. He turns to find Merlin giving him one of his usual wide grins. "It's not your fault."

Arthur only sighs. "Of course it is. Morgana is after the throne of Camelot. She has no need to attack a farming village such as Ealdor unless she was after me. I should have stayed away..."

Merlin shakes his head. "I think she was here for another reason. She said something before you arrived to help me. She said something about Emrys."

Arthur immediately perks up at the words. He sits up straighter, eyes alight with urgency. "Emrys?"

Merlin nods. "I think she was searching for this man as well."

He can hardly believe his ears. Morgana knows Emrys is in Ealdor, but how? The druids wouldn't have told her. Would they? No, the druids have never sided with Morgana before and they wouldn't now. Then how had she found out? The first thought Arthur's mind wandered to is a spy. A traitor. There is a traitor within Camelot's walls, and it had to have been someone within the council.

"Did she find him?" Arthur asks.

"I don't know."

Arthur curses under his breath, slumping back down against the tree. He grumbles to himself under his breath, the frustration returning. How was he to find Emrys now? The only lead he had was destroyed. For all he knows, the sorcerer is dead from having been burned to death and by a Pendragon no less. Either that, or he had been captured by Morgana. 

"Why are you searching for this Emrys?" Merlin asks, tilting his head, startling the king from his thoughts.

"I can't tell you. It's sensitive information," Arthur says.

Merlin frowns, looking more than a little peeved. "This man is the reason Morgana attacked my home. I deserve to know."

Arthur looks away. "I think it's best you not get involved."

The boy gives a huff, but says nothing more to argue. Merlin turns back to look at the rising smoke, watching the grey wisps float up into the night sky. They curl and twist, forming the faces of the dead.  Merlin shivers, tearing his gaze away. 

The sound of rustling bushes sends a jolt down Arthur's spine. He can feel Merlin jump as well beside him before they both turn towards the source of the noise. Arthur slips his hand out of Merlin's grasp, moving to grab at the hilt of his sword instead. He pulls the blade out, keeping it pointed towards the bushes as he gets to his feet and stalks over slowly. He wishes now that he had gathered his chainmail and armour from Merlin's home before rushing out. Merlin also rises behind him, grabbing a large branch off the ground and wielding it like a club. 

In any other circumstance, Arthur would have laughed at the sight of the scrawny boy trying to use a branch as a weapon, but now was not the time. He makes sure to keep his distance, but moves in close enough that he could strike if need be. He sucks in a breath.

"Declare yourself," Arthur demands, making sure to keep his voice regal.

"Arthur!" A voice suddenly shouts excitedly from behind the king. 

The king whirls around in time to see Merlin smacking the branch down on the man's head. The branch snaps in half, splintering into pieces onto the ground. The man stumbles forward a few steps before collapsing to the ground, face first. 

"Sire?" 

Arthur turns back towards the bush to see Leon appear from behind it. The man smiles once he sees his king.

Arthur lets out an excited laugh at the sight of his most loyal knight. "Leon!" 

The knight smiles, moving forward to give his king a pat on the shoulder. "I'm happy to have found you alive, my lord."

Arthur smiles, giving his knight and friend a nod of agreement. "I'm glad to see you alive as well. Where are the others?"

"Lancelot and Percival are out searching for you as well. Elyan is back at the camp and Gwaine is... well..." Leon points towards the man lying on the ground, groaning.

\-----

By the time Merlin notices the Pendragon emblem stitched into the man's cape he's already swung the branch down. He hears the loud crack of the wood splintering as it hits its target. The man crumbles to the dirt in a heap, not moving a muscle. 

Merlin crouches down by the man, feeling guilty already for having hit him upside the head with a tree branch. He shakes the man's shoulders worriedly, afraid that this time he really did kill someone. He needs to learn to stop hitting people over the head with random objects. 

"Oh no, please be alive. I'm sorry!" Merlin says, shaking the man's shoulders.

Merlin only stops when he sees the man stir under him. The man chuckles, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. "You have a strong swing there mate," the knight says with a laugh 

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were a knight of Camelot!" Merlin says while helping the man to his feet. 

"Not a problem. What's your name?" The knight asks, dusting his armour off.

"I'm Merlin." 

"Gwaine, the princess' best knight," Gwaine declares proudly with a bow.

"Gwaine? You mean the drunk?"

The knight laughs throwing an arm around Merlin's neck, "It seems you know me already, eh? Has the princess been bragging about my wonderful swordsmanship?"

Merlin chuckles. "Actually... he's told me about how much of a drunk you are."

Gwaine grins, "What can I say? A man loves his ale."

"Yes, and you love it a bit too much," Arthur says with a sigh, moving to pull Gwaine off of Merlin.

Gwaine snickers, "It's a pleasure to see you alive and well, princess."

Arthur glares at him, "How many times must I tell you? That is not how you address a king."

"Alright, princess." Gwaine grins, giving Arthur a wink.

Merlin laughs. "So you're a prat to all your friends. That's refreshing to know." 

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin."

"I like this one," Gwaine says cheerfully, once again throwing an arm around the boy to pull him in closer. "He's not a bootlicker."

Merlin smiles at the knight, happy to see that the man treats him as an equal instead of as a lowly peasant. He catches Arthur frowning at them. The king moves over to pry the knight's arm off once again before crossing his arms over his chest, sending Gwaine a nasty glare. 

"Let's go. Show us the way to the camp."

\-----

Merlin follows behind Arthur as he bickers back and forth with Gwaine who can't seem to keep his mouth shut. He's starting to see why Arthur had the need to vent to him about the drunk. Spending years with a man that talked that much can't have been easy.

Merlin turns to look at the other knight walking along beside him. This knight is rather tall. The man has blonde, curly hair and seems to be watching Gwaine in disappointment, but a smile is on his face nonetheless. He catches Merlin looking and gives the boy a smile. 

"I hear your name's Merlin," he says.

Merlin nods, "And you are?"

"Leon." 

"Arthur mentioned you before as well. He said you're one of his most trusted knights."

Leon seems to smile brighter at the words. "He has? Frankly, I'm quite surprised he told you. The king isn't one to open up. Though I must thank you for watching over him."

Merlin laughs, "It was difficult. He was a prat when I first met him. I wanted to leave him in the forest to die."

Leon chuckles, "Driving you mad, was he?"

Merlin laughs again, hardly able to contain the giggles. "He was, but he has some redeeming qualities as well. He's a good king. One that is better than his father."

Leon nods with a smile, looking towards Arthur, "I agree."

\-----

Merlin lets out a gasp once they reach the camp. The first thing he sees is the numerous people huddled around the clearing. Some are curled in blankets on the grass, sleeping, while others are circled around the fire in hopes of keeping warm. He recognizes most of the people. Save for the three knights milling about they are all villagers from Ealdor.

Merlin quickly scans through the group, seeing many familiar faces. He's disappointed to find that many are missing as well. He hasn't seen Will yet, for instance, and the fact that many of the people are crying into their hands is another sign that not everyone managed to escape.

The last people Merlin sees are his mother and Gaius. They're both seated on the grass, blankets around their shoulders as they talk quietly amongst themselves. A relieved smile crosses Merlin's face in an instant. He dashes over, throwing himself into his mother's arms and snuggling into the crook of her neck. "Mother..." he whispers, feeling tears stinging at his eyes.

She wraps her arms around him, gently patting his back while keeping the tears out of her own eyes. "Merlin... I'm glad you're alright..." she whispers, pulling him in close.

They part after a moment. Merlin quickly wipes the tears from his eyes before flashing his mother a wide smile, simply overjoyed to find them both alive and unharmed. He turns towards Gaius and gives him a quick hug as well. "I'm glad you both are safe."

Gaius smiles, "Thankfully the knights of Camelot were nearby."

"How did you know they were here?" Merlin asks.

"Arthur had told us to hide in the forest and instructed us to run towards the border. We ran into his knights here as they were searching for him. They recognized Gaius and we informed them of what happened. They started to search for any survivors as soon as they could. They've been a great help," Hunith says with a smile. 

Merlin turns back to look at the knights tending to the camp. He sees one man with dark skin tending to the flames, while another with sleeveless chainmail handing some cooked meats to the villagers. Arthur is chatting quietly with Leon by the horses, keeping his voice hushed as they discuss the next course of action. Gwaine seems to be keeping watch. He's leaning up against a tree, staring off into the distance with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Another man stands beside him with a gentle look in his eyes. He turns his head from side to side, searching for any signs of danger in the trees. 

Merlin smiles, "They seem to be good people."

\-----

Merlin wakes the next morning from someone lightly tapping their boot into his ribs. "Rise and shine," Arthur says with a grin, copying the boy's usual morning greeting.

Merlin groans, opening his eyes reluctantly. He looks up at Arthur with a frown. "I'm surprised to see you up," Merlin mumbles, mind still sated and sleepy.

"We need to get going. Morgana might find us if we stay too long," Arthur says, pulling the peasant to his feet.

Merlin sighs, patting away the grass stuck to his clothes before pulling his coat back on. He yawns, stretching his arms in the air. He looks around, seeing that most of the others are already awake. Many of the villagers are already gathering what little belongings they have, readying themselves for the walk ahead. The knights are saddling up the horses, helping a few of the injured onto the stallions to help ease their journey. Gaius is making his rounds, checking on the wounds of various villagers as he makes his way around the camp.

"Alright. Where are we heading?" Merlin asks, looking towards the king. 

Arthur grins widely, seeming overly excited all of a sudden. "We are heading to Camelot!"

 


	9. Welcome to Camelot

Merlin's whole body goes tense at Arthur's words. Camelot, the big bad place his mother told him about as a child where sorcerers are burned on a regular basis. Merlin swallows the lump in his throat, trying to keep himself from shaking. He can see Arthur watching him skeptically with a tilt of his head, most likely curious as to why he suddenly looks so afraid.

"Camelot?" Merlin asks for confirmation, hoping he had simply heard wrong.

Arthur smiles again and nods. "Camelot."

Merlin swallows again, looking around and seeing now how the villagers are all eyeing him with concern from the corners of their eyes. He's touched that they worry over him, but he can't be the one to hold them back from seeking refuge within Camelot's impregnable walls. He'll have to simply learn to adjust, besides, it isn't as though he has never considered going to Camelot before. It could be fun, he'll just have to be more careful from now on. 

Merlin smiles, hiding the fear churning in the pit of his stomach. "Then we best get going."

\-----

The king leads the way throughout the journey with his knights and the other villagers following behind him. Gaius keeps pace with the horses, aiding the injured villagers riding the stallions when they are in need of any assistance from the physician. Hunith follows the old man, trying to help in any way she can whether it be searching through Gaius' medicine satchel for potions or rebinding someone's wounds. The children dash along the trails, filled with energy and excitement at the new adventures awaiting them in Camelot. Some run off the path to chase some squirrels or rabbits in the trees, only to be scolded by their parents to return to the group. The other villagers chat amongst themselves, some wondering how the castle in Camelot would look while others mourn quietly for their loved ones. 

Merlin walks alongside Arthur. The sounds of their laughter as they continue their usual banter seems to ring out over the group of refugees. Smiles cover both their faces as they argue back and forth, seeing which one could come up with the better insult. 

The knights watch the two quietly from behind, all of them throughly surprised at seeing such a genuine smile on their king's face. They look between the two, trying to deduce what had happened during their absence.

"Perhaps," Elyan begins, "the boy's threatening him."

Leon shakes his head, "No, doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing."

"Then he's placed Arthur under a spell?" Percival suggests with a shrug, though he highly doubted it.

 "Oh he has the princess under a spell alright!" Gwaine says while throwing his head back in laughter.

The others snicker as well, eyeing their king and the peasant boy once more. 

"He indeed shows a strange fondness for the boy," Lancelot says with a nod in the pairs direction.

"At this point it's more than fondness," Elyan corrects.

The others laugh again at the remark. Truly it has been some time since they had last seen their king so relaxed, if they ever had that is. Gwaine is the first to decide to disturb the pair. He swings an arm around them both before grinning widely.

"How are the two lovebirds today?" Gwaine asks with a chuckle as the other knights move up to join him.

Immediately, Merlin looks down at the ground with the tips of his ears burning a bright red. Arthur has already shoved the man off them both, face more than just slightly flustered. He sneers at the drunk who only returns the gesture with a mischievous grin. The other knights snicker around them, amused at the king's reaction to the statement. 

Arthur glares at each of them, making sure to convey with his eyes the amount of extra training he'll be giving them upon their return. The knights don't seem fazed at the threat. They simply smile back innocently.

Arthur heaves a sigh, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Well?" Elyan says with a smirk, "are you not going to introduce us to your new friend?"

\-----

It takes another day before they're able to reach their destination. Merlin gawks in amazement at the citadel looming over them as they walk through the gates into the lower town. As much as he fears the place, he can't help staring in awe at everything around him. He's been in Ealdor his whole life, stuck in the same routine day in and day out. The small part of him that craves for an adventure begins to jump for joy at the sights around him.

His mother had considered sending him to Camelot once before in order for him to learn how to better control his magic with Gaius. He remembers her contacting the physician for the first time in years, asking him to care for him when he arrived in the city. Gaius had urged them to reconsider, claiming it was much too dangerous for him to stay in Camelot. Instead, Gaius had suggested an alternative to training him.

He had to admit, despite being scared at first, he had wanted to go. He had wanted to get away from his life in Ealdor and find something greater for himself other than being a simple farming boy. Now, it seems he'll have another chance. 

Arthur seems to notice him staring and gives a smug grin, he spins on his heel so he's walking backwards while facing the rest of the group. He spreads his arms out, looking proud of himself as though he had built the kingdom all on his own. "Welcome to Camelot. The greatest of all the five kingdoms."

Merlin can only stare at the sights around him, too entranced to bother listening to the king. Merlin glances around, eyes alight with excitement as he tries to spot differences with the large city and his own village. The houses are crowded much more closely together, leaving a main path snaking through the town and small alleyways that branch off to the sides. Market stalls line the sides of the path where townsfolk would gather, searching through the merchants various wares before making an offer to trade. Dozens of people crowd the streets all trying to complete their daily tasks, but they all part once they see the king making his way through. They would move to the sidelines, bowing or watching with admiration as their king passed. 

Arthur is unfazed at the attention. He smiles at them, giving some a wave when he passes. Merlin slowly begins to lag behind, unsure if he should be walking beside the king. He slows until he's in pace with his mother, who seems to be glancing around with equal amazement as Gaius speaks with her.

"Both of you can stay with me," Gaius is saying when Merlin walks alongside him.

"Will that be alright with you? We wouldn't want to be a burden," Hunith says, looking concerned.

Gaius only smiles. "It will be quite alright. Besides, it would be safer for Merlin as well."

Hunith smiles at him sweetly, "Thank you Gaius, we'll help as much as we can."

"It's not a problem. Frankly, I'll enjoy the company," Gaius turns towards Merlin now, expression turning dangerous before speaking in a hushed tone, "And you need to be extra careful. You are not permitted to demonstrate your... talents while here. At the very least, refrain from using it outside my chambers."

Merlin nods, already knowing full well what the consequences will be if he's caught. He risks a glance towards Arthur, wondering if the king would execute him if he ever discovered the truth. 

\----

The moment Arthur steps foot into the citadel Agravaine appears beside him. His uncle watches him with concern as he follows him up the steps.

"What happened, my lord? Are you alright?" Agravaine asks.

"I'm fine," Arthur snaps, "But we need to find homes to house all the refugees at least temporarily. Can you see to it?"

Agravaine bows, "Of course, sire. Though had your quest been fruitful? Did you find this Emrys?"

Arthur shakes his head, clearly even more agitated than before. "Morgana burned down the village. She's after him too." He sighs before stopping, turning to face his uncle. "Someone told her of our plans. Someone within the council. I think we have a traitor within our midst."

"How do you know it's a traitor? Perhaps she followed you?"

Arthur shakes his head, leaning against the wall to gaze out into the courtyard. He spots Merlin down below, walking with his mother and following Gaius towards the physician's chambers. Was that where he'll be staying? Arthur makes a mental note to visit later to make his proposition to the boy. He had been contemplating the idea for a while during the walk to Camelot and he's finally made his decision. 

He turns back towards Agravaine. "I don't think she followed us. It's far too coincidental. She's never done so before. The only way would be if someone had informed her."

"I shall see to it myself, sire. Rest assured I shall find this traitor for you." Agravaine turns to leave.

"No," The king's voice echoes across the corridor. Agravaine turns to face his nephew. " I will find the traitor myself," Arthur says, walking past his uncle towards his chambers. "Do not believe you are clear from suspicion simply because you are my uncle."

With that Arthur turns the corner, leaving the man alone staring wide eyed at the king.

\-----

Merlin pushes open the door to the physician's chamber and is instantly met with the scent of bitter herbs. He scrunches up his nose as he walks in, glancing around at the room that will soon serve as his home for however long. 

The first thing he notes is how the room is rather messy. Potion bottles filled with an array of coloured liquids are cluttered on the tables, shelves, cupboards, honestly anywhere that contained a flat surface except the floor. Books are strewn just as messily around the room. Most are stacked on the stairs or on the small upper level while others are piled high on the physicians desk. 

Gaius walks in, hanging his medicine satchel on a peg attached to the wall before pointing towards a door at the end of the room. "Hunith, you may use the room upstairs."

Hunith smiles, giving the old man a quick word of thanks before carrying her things up the few steps into the room. Gaius turns towards Merlin. "I hope you won't mind sleeping in the main room. Though..." Gaius glances around, "I'm afraid I don't have another bed."

"I don't mind. I'm already grateful you're willing to allow us to stay," Merlin replies with a smile.

Gaius smiles back, before heading towards the small stove. He lights the fire, starting to prepare a meal. 

Merlin glances around, unsure of what to do now. He didn't have any belongings to unpack. He hadn't had the time to run back to his home and grab anything. He scans the room, spotting a bookcase on the other end. He walks over, running a finger along the book's bindings. Many of the texts do little to peak his interest. A few though, such as the ones on magical creatures or spells, catch his attention. He pulls a book off the shelf, one about enchantments, and blows the dust off the cover. He holds the book in his hand, eager to flip through the pages when a voice, almost as low as a whisper, speaks in his head in a garbled mess.

The voice steadily grows louder and louder, forcing him to drop the book and clutch at his ears. He falls to his knees, almost doubling over as a presence seems to consume him. All he can hear are muffled words before the voice dies away. 

Merlin lets out a gasp when the voice disappears. Sweat soaks his brow as he lies curled on the floor, trying to make sense of what had just occurred. He looks up to see Gaius and his mother hovering over him worriedly. He shifts his gaze, trying to find the source of the voice except there is no one else around other than them. He hadn't been able to make out the words. All he could hear was a low mumble, as though something had tried to contact him but failed. Gaius picks the book up off the floor, setting it back on the table while Hunith reaches out a worried hand, cupping her son's cheek.

"Merlin?" she asks.

Merlin looks up at her, lifting his hands away from his ears. "Hm?"

"Are you alright? What happened?." 

Merlin feigns a smile, "I'm fine. Really. There's nothing to worry about." He slowly gets to his feet, his legs wobbling slightly. 

Hunith frowns, looking him up and down. "Are you sure? You don't feel sick?"

"Mother, I'm fine. I promise." Merlin says, brushing her hand away.

Hunith nods slowly, backing away albeit reluctantly.

Gaius eyes him with curiosity before he heads back to his cooking pot, grabbing a wooden spoon off the table and stirring the pot's contents. Hunith shuffles over, shooting him one last worried glance before offering to help and leaving Merlin alone once again. He decides to ignore the strange voice in his head. Perhaps he's been out in the sun for too long. He sits down at Gaius' desk, cracking open the book. He's only able to read through a few pages when a knock sounds on the door.

"Can you get that for me, Merlin?" Gaius calls, concentrating on his cooking.

Merlin sighs, getting to his feet, book still in hand while making his way to the door. He's still reading intently when he throws open the door. He looks up, giving a small yelp of surprise before shutting the door immediately. Gaius raises an eyebrow at him in question as he tosses the book across the room into a corner. 

He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but his heart continues to race at the sudden panic. Why is Arthur here? He had been the last person Merlin would have expected to be waiting on the other side.

_'Perhaps Arthur's here to see me?'_  Merlin shakes the hopeful thought from his head. He highly doubted it. Arthur's most likely here for Gaius. After all, he's sure Arthur's busy as king. He wouldn't go out of his way to come visit him. The man would forget about him within a week. He's nothing special, simply a boy that had managed to save a king. If the man hadn't been stuck with him for the past few days he's sure Arthur would never have given him a second glance.  

Merlin heaves a sigh, a little disappointed at the thoughts as he pulls open the door again, giving the waiting guest a nervous smile.

"Arthur, did you need something?"

\-----

Arthur tugs the tunic over his head, happy to finally have a clean shirt to wear. He steps out from behind the partition and sighs, looking at the mess that is his royal chambers. Clothes are strewn across the floor and documents are lazily scattered across his desk. The bed is still unmade and the ashes had yet to be cleaned from the hearth even during his absence. 

He sighs again before exiting the room, heading down towards the physician's chambers. He knocks on the door when he arrives, waiting for someone to answer. The door opens to reveal Merlin with a book in hand. Before he's even able to read the title of the strange book the boy looks up and yelps, slamming the door in his face. 

Arthur stares in shock, more than a little hurt that Merlin had just shut the door in his face. Did he not want to see him? Before his brooding can go any further, the door swings open again. The book is gone from Merlin's hands and he's smiling at him nervously.

"Arthur, did you need something?" he asks, somewhat sounding panicked.

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him, wondering about his strange behaviour but says nothing more to question it. "I wanted to make you an offer," Arthur says.

Merlin straightens, holding open the door to allow the king to enter. Arthur steps inside, giving Hunith and Gaius a friendly smile before turning back to Merlin.

"What is it?" Merlin asks, shutting the door behind him.

Arthur can start feeling nervousness settle in now that he's about to ask. He wipes the palms of his hands on his trousers. The words catch in his throat before he even opens his mouth. He averts his gaze from Merlin's curious ones. The boy tilts his head, waiting patiently for Arthur to speak. 

Arthur chides himself. Why is he so nervous? He's only looking out for Merlin. That's it, he's offering the job to the boy in order to look out for him. Nothing more and nothing less. 

"I've been in need of a new manservant for some time now," Arthur begins, turning back to look at Merlin. "I was wondering if you would like to take the job?"

Merlin seems surprised at the offer. "You want to hire me as your manservant?" Merlin asks.

Arthur nods, his nerves returning now that he needs to justify his reasons. He only hopes Merlin will believe him. "Yes. You'll be in need of a job, won't you? There's a reasonable pay and I can provide you with accommodations."

Merlin tilts his head in question. "Why me? Aren't there others more suited to the task?"

_'Because I want to keep you close.'_ Arthur shakes the thoughts quickly out of his head, feeling a blush rising steadily on his face. He most certainly was not offering Merlin the job for such selfish reasons. No, it's for Merlin's own benefit. That's all it is and all it will ever be. "You're not a bootlicker and besides, we seemed to get along quite well. At least you won't be as insufferable as some of the others I've had."

Merlin thinks for a moment. He glances towards Gaius and Hunith who seem to be busy with the cooking, neither paying the two much mind. Merlin turns back to face Arthur. His eyebrows are scrunched together as he contemplates his options.

Arthur waits anxiously. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip as his eyes dart around the room. He wants nothing more than for Merlin to accept the offer. As much as he wishes to deny it, he really does want an excuse to keep the boy close. Over the short amount of time they've spent together the idiot has managed to grow on him.

"Alright. I'll take the job." Merlin smiles at him.

Arthur lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding before allowing a grin to spread across his own face. He throws an arm around the boy's shoulder, tugging him in close as he heads towards the door. "Then I'll show you to your new chambers."

\-----

Agravaine gives the door a tentative knock before standing aside. He waits, not daring to do anything more in fear of the witch's wrath. The door swings open not a moment later, revealing the furious eyes of the Lady Morgana. She scoffs at him before moving aside to allow him entrance. 

They seat themselves by the central fire. Agravaine rubs his hands together in front of him, trying to bring some warmth into his frozen fingers. Even the summer nights can be cruel. 

"You asked for me, my lady?" Agravaine starts the conversation, glancing up to gaze at the priestesses' cold profile. 

She sneers at him, eyes narrowing. "Has Arthur returned from Ealdor?"

Agravaine nods, "He's made it back with a number of the villagers. They seem to all be relatively unharmed."

Morgana scowls, "And Emrys?"

Agravaine smirks, finally able to deliver some better news. "Arthur had failed to find him. We may still have hope."

She stares at him, looking slightly confused. "He hasn't found him? But..." Her words trail off as she paces the room. She stops by one of the shelves in her hovel, gripping the edge of the wooden frame. Soon, her grip loosens. A wide and almost crazed smile appears on her face. She spins on her heel, suddenly eyes alight with excitement. "Arthur doesn't know."

Agravaine raises an eyebrow. "Doesn't know what?"

Morgana walks forward until she's standing face to face before the man. "He has yet to realize that boy is Emrys." Morgana smirks, "We must kill him before Arthur finds out. And I believe you will be up to the task?"

 Agravaine smiles and bows. "Of course, my lady."

"Then I'll leave this in your hands. Don't disappoint me." She coos before turning away, heading towards her bed. 

"My lady?"

She stops, turning back to face him.

"Does this boy have a name? I'd assume he doesn't go by Emrys."

Morgana smirks, one that would be fit for the devil. "His name is Merlin. A close friend of my dear brother."


	10. The Seed of Doubt

The king leads his newly acquired manservant through the winding halls of Camelot's citadel. By now, the torches are already lit along the wall, shedding light along the darkened path ahead. Windows line the opposite side, staring down at the now quiet courtyard below. The moon sheds a faint light through the glass, allowing the orange of the torches and the white of the moon to intermingle in the centre of the hall.

"...And you will stay until I dismiss you for the night," Arthur says, finishing the last of Merlin's long list of chores. 

Merlin groans, grumbling under his breath about lazy royals. "More than half those tasks you can perform on your own!" Merlin complains, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Why do you need me to help you dress?!" 

"Dressing is not as easy as it looks." Arthur argues. 

Merlin rolls his eyes. "Anyone with half a brain can perform such a task. Then again..." he smirks, "it seems you don't quite meet the standards." Merlin snickers, eyes trained on Arthur's tunic. 

The king looks down, face flushing at noticing that his tunic is on backwards. The king turns his head away, arms crossed over his chest as he glares out the window, feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed he had walked through the castle with his shirt on backwards.

Merlin laughs, finding much amusement at watching the king squirm. He doesn't notice Arthur stopping in front of him until he walks straight into the man's chest. Merlin staggers back, almost toppling to the floor before a hand reaches out to steady him. He feels the hand holding his waist, can feel the calloused fingers brush against his skin when the king rushes to move his hand away.

Heat rises to Merlin's cheeks as they stand before each other awkwardly. Merlin keeps his gaze trained on the ground, partially to hide his embarrassment at his own clumsiness and partially to avoid staring at Arthur's broad chest. He's sure ogling the king is a punishable offence. 

Arthur coughs into his fist, turning towards the door with a hand now covering his red cheeks. "These will be your chambers," he says, the words a low mumble behind his hand. 

He pushes open the door to reveal a room of decent size. It contains a single bed that faces the door with a window above it. A small desk and chair sit to one corner against the wall to the left while a wardrobe stands tall beside it. A stool rests alone by the door while a small trunk for personal belongings is pushed against the foot of the bed. There's another door on the right wall, to where it leads Merlin is unsure. Perhaps a small storage room?

Arthur smiles, "I hope you like your new chambers."

Merlin glances around, inspecting the room. The walls and ceiling are made of stone, already an upgrade compared to his old home in Ealdor. The floor is made of polished wood and the window gives a splendid view out towards the town. This is much more than he could ever ask for.

"It's wonderful. Thank you," he says, giving his most sincere smile. 

Arthur smiles back. "I'll be expecting you at work tomorrow. I suggest you get a good nights rest."

Merlin nods, watching with a quizzical expression as Arthur shuts the door behind him and heads for the door on the right wall. "Where are y-"

Merlin's jaw drops before he can finish his sentence. Arthur opens the door to reveal, what Merlin assumes, is the man's own chambers. He looks back at Merlin, scrunching his eyebrows as he wonders why Merlin is staring. 

Merlin lifts a finger, pointing towards the door leading into the extravagant room on the other side. "Those are your chambers?" he asks.

Arthur nods. "It makes things more convenient," he gives a devilish smirk, "Now I can bother you whenever I please. Remember, don't be late tomorrow!"

With that the king leaves, shutting the door behind him.

\-----

When Arthur wakes the next morning it's to find no manservant in his chambers. He groans, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. Of course the idiot would be late.

He manages to crawl out of bed despite his drowsiness. He opts to keep the curtains shut for the time being, not willing to face the early morning sun just yet and besides, it's Merlin's job now to draw the curtains. He heads towards the door leading into the boy's chambers, tugging it open rather roughly. He's about to shout into the room in order to wake his lazy servant, but stops himself quickly when he sees Merlin still curled on the bed, soundly asleep.

He stands by the door, unable to keep himself from staring. Merlin's turned so he's facing the door to the king's chambers with a blanket draped loosely over top of him. He looks innocent. vulnerable in his sleep. Arthur can feel a deep desire begin to churn in his stomach at the sight. 

The room is quiet save for the sound of a soft puff of air escaping Merlin's lips with each exhale. Arthur takes a step further into the room. The floor boards creak under his weight, making him wince at the noise. He didn't want to wake Merlin, at least not yet. 

He looks up to see Merlin shift in his sleep, turning over to face the opposite direction. Arthur lets out a a breath, smiling down at the innocent boy still dozing on the bed. He considers leaving him here, allowing the boy to rest after the whole ordeal in Ealdor, but then again, he can't allow Merlin to think he can sleep in everyday.

A mischievous smirk crosses the king's face as he walks over to the side of the bed. He leans in close until his breath is brushing against the servant's ear. He takes in a deep breath. "Merlin!" He shouts.

The boy jumps, rolling off the other end of the bed. A loud thunk echoes around the room as he hits the floor followed by an irritated groan. Arthur only chuckles to himself as he watches Merlin's head pop up from behind the bed, his hair sticking up at odd angles. The servant's eyes shoot him an angered glare as he gets to his feet. 

Arthur grins, "It's good to see you were on time this morning, Merlin," Arthur says, words dripping in sarcasm.

Merlin huffs, "I'm sorry, sire," he says with a smirk, stretching out the last word until it sounded mocking.

Arthur frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's not how you address your king."

"Then how about a prat?" Merlin gives a cheeky grin to which the king returns with a roll of his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. He's glad to see some things won't change between them.

\-----

Merlin regrets taking Arthur's offer almost immediately. Not only is the man a demanding prat, but he seems to be either incapable or too lazy to do anything himself. Merlin's had to draw the curtains, make his bed, gather his clothes off the floor, clear out the ashes in the hearth, bring up his breakfast, and clear his plates all within a span of an hour. That hadn't even been the worst part. Now, he's helping the grown man change. He doesn't know if he'll make it to the end of the week if he'll have to endure this everyday.

Merlin's heart is hammering in his chest while he pulls the tunic over Arthur's head. He silently prays that the king won't notice the red tainting his cheeks as he tries his best to look away from Arthur's chiseled chest. It's difficult to keep his gaze focused on something else especially when the man's golden skin is like a beacon in the night. He lifts up the red tunic in his hands, blocking his view and helping the king into the shirt. He stiffens when his fingers brush against the man's skin as he pulls the tunic down over his chest. He ties the laces on the shirt quickly before backing away, keeping his distance. 

"I-I'll see to the rest of my chores now," Merlin stutters out in a rush before dashing off, not allowing the king a chance to protest.

His heart doesn't slow its maddening rhythm until he's sure he's far enough away from the king. He lets out a breath, feeling suddenly exhausted. He glances around, only now realizing that he doesn't know the way around the castle. He searches for any hints as to where he is only to find nothing. All the corridors look the same to him.

He lets out a sigh, looking around to perhaps find a passing servant. 

_"Mer... lin...."_

Merlin whips his head around, searching for the source of the voice. Again he finds nothing. He's sure this time that he had heard his name...

_"Merlin..."_

He spins on his heel, staring down the empty hall before him. He squints his eyes, trying to see if someone's there. He takes a few steps forward and the voice returns. This time louder than before. Merlin continues forward down the path, listening to the echoing voice in his head. It's speaking in a garbled mess once more and again, he's unable to decipher any of it, but he's able to make out one word. One that rings clear as day in his head. Destiny.

He starts sprinting down the hall, only occasionally skidding to a halt when he realizes he's missed a turn. He winces now at the volume of the voice, feeling the sounds vibrating his very being with each incoherent sound. 

He stops once he reaches a large, iron gate. His insides twist as he stares through the bars. Stairs lead down the opposite side, leading deep into the abyss below. The only source of light is from the torch behind him, casting an eerie glow down the steps until it's swallowed by the blackness. The voice is loudest as he faces the gate. It seems to be trying to coax him forward, urging him to enter the pits. 

Merlin reaches for the handle. A shiver runs down his spine as he curls his fingers around the cold bars and jerks the gate open, hearing the hinges shriek in protest. He takes a step forward, the voice seeming pleased at his entrance into its domain. He lifts up a hand, whispering a spell and allowing a fire to glow on his palm. The flame helps illuminate the way and he's about to continue on down when a figure interrupts him.

"Excuse me," a man says behind him, "but you are not permitted to enter."

Merlin stops, quickly snuffing out the fire before turning to find himself face to face with an older man. The man has black hair slicked back over his head and a regal expression on his face, one that Merlin recognizes from Arthur. The voice in his head gives a low growl before disappearing completely.

"I'm sorry... um I'm new to the castle and I was searching for the armoury. Could you point me in the correct direction?" he says with an innocent smile. He isn't lying after all, it's partially true.

The man narrows his eyes at the boy, his gaze scrutinizing. "The armoury is down the hall and to the left."

Merlin nods, shutting the gate and walking past the man nervously. He quickly skitters away, hoping desperately that the man hadn't seen him performing magic.

\-----

It's in the middle of one of the roundtable meetings that Arthur catches the odd looks Agravaine shoots towards Merlin. His uncle's gaze seems to be trained on the boy throughout the entire meeting, only leaving it on occasion to address the room. He can tell Merlin's uncomfortable under the man's stern glare. The boy is squirming in his spot behind the king's chair as he tries to look away from the man. Arthur's brows furrow the longer the situation goes on. He's going to need to question them later. 

"...And we have sent men out towards Ealdor to search for anymore survivors. They should return by the end of the week," Leon concludes his report before returning to his seat.

Arthur nods and rises from his own chair. "Thank you, Leon. That will be all for today. You are all dismissed."

The others rise from their seats. The nobles turn to leave in silence while his knights chatter amongst each other before turning to the door. He can see his uncle remain seated, eyes trained on the servant behind him while the others disperse. 

Merlin waits behind the king, now chewing on his lower lip as he sends nervous glances towards Agravaine. "Is there anything else you need, sire? Or am I dismissed?" Merlin asks, seeming eager to leave. 

Arthur looks at the servant in surprise. He had actually addressed him formally. No insults or cheeky remarks. Something must be wrong. He glances towards his uncle who rises from his seat now, approaching the pair.

"My lord," Agravaine says, "may I speak with you?"

Arthur turns to face his uncle. "Of course." 

Merlin stiffens beside him, glancing around nervously now as though he's searching for a way to escape.

"Privately?" Agravaine sends Merlin a glance.

Arthur sighs, waving his hand in the servants direction to dismiss him. Merlin gives a shaking bow before leaving.

"Who is that... boy?" Agravaine asks, sending a glare towards Merlin's receding back.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, "He's my new manservant. His name is Merlin."

Agravaine tenses up, his face changing into a smug smile before it quickly disappears. "I see. Though is it wise to bring him to council meetings?"

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you questioning my judgment?"

"Of course not, sire. I am simply concerned for Camelot's safety especially when we know there is a traitor in our midst."

A scowl crosses the king's face, feeling rather irritated at his uncle's distrust. Merlin is not only his servant, he's his friend. Despite only knowing the boy for a short while, he trusts him more than many of the people in his own court. "Merlin has my trust, besides he has been Gaius' apprentice for years. I can trust them both."

"I understand, my lord, but I believe he may be deceiving you."

Arthur's hands clench into fists at the accusation. "How so?"

His uncle moves in closer, leaning in to keep his voice quiet. "I found him snooping about the castle and acting suspicious. He could be one of Morgana's men."

Arthur almost laughs at the idea. "Merlin? Working for Morgana?" 

"It it plausible, my lord. It is quite a coincidence he had found you in forest, was it not?"

Arthur scoffs, "I was in the forest near his home. There is nothing odd at his presence and besides, if he were the traitor then he would have had to be in Camelot prior to my quest to Ealdor. He's never stepped foot in the kingdom let alone the palace before yesterday."

Agravaine nods in agreement. "Indeed, my lord, but what you had just stated earlier says otherwise."

Arthur rolls his eyes, but gestures with a hand for him to continue.

"I've suspected for sometime now that Gaius may be working for Morgana. He was a sorcerer previously and I would not doubt that he may harbour ill feelings towards you and your family. He had  known about your quest to Ealdor and for Emrys. He could have informed Morgana and you had said so yourself. He's been in contact with the boy before you met him in Ealdor. They could both be traitors."

Arthur turns his back to his uncle, staring out the window. His hands clench tighter, except now the target of his anger has changed. He shuts his eyes, feeling himself seething at the thought of such a betrayal from the two people he trusted immensely. His breathing comes in harsh breaths as he wraps his mind around his uncle's suggestion. He has to admit, his uncle has thought this through. The reasoning is sound, but a quick flash of the idiot's smiling face makes the anger fade almost immediately. He thinks of Merlin's cheeky remarks and his various insults. He thinks of all the things about the boy that he finds endearing. He thinks of Gaius as well, the kind old man who's always been loyal to not only his father, but to him as well. The physician's been around for as long as he can remember. He can't believe the two would ever betray him, but was that not what he had assumed of Morgana?

Arthur shakes his head. No, he cannot think in such a way. He must give them the benefit of the doubt. "I'm sorry, uncle, but unless you can find me proof of your claims I cannot believe what you say. These are all mere speculation. I will not condemn a man without any evidence."

His uncle nods, giving the king a bow. "Of course, my lord. I was merely stating my mind."

"It is alright, uncle. I appreciate your concern. You are dismissed."

Agravaine turns and leaves the room in silence.

Once the door shuts, Arthur turns back to face the windows in the throne room. The light sparkles in through the stained glass, sending an array of colours into the room. Normally, Arthur would have taken the time to admire its beauty, but today his mind is occupied with other matters. He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Merlin and Gaius aren't betraying him. They aren't and they won't ever, but what if they are? What if they have both been relaying information to Morgana behind his back? Gaius while he was in Camelot and Merlin while he was in Ealdor?Arthur almost wants to throw his chair across the room at the thought in his head. No, they are his friends. They would never do such a thing... Never...


	11. Agravaine the Aggravating Arse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late chapter guys. I had some major writers block for this chapter and had to write and rewrite it multiple times. As you can see I couldn't exactly think up of a proper chapter title either... I hope the chapter will still be enjoyable though and it's also shorter so I'm sorry guys.
> 
> The next one should be better, hopefully.

Agravaine's words continue to swirl about in the king's head for the duration of the week. Arthur can hardly find himself concentrating on any task for longer than a few minutes without his mind wandering back to the suspicion growing about the Court Physician and his manservant. The more the words replay themselves in his head the more his suspicion grows. He tries to brush it aside, knowing that his uncle's words are based upon pure speculation, but the doubt is still there nonetheless. It continues to grow, to fester in his mind until he can barely stand the sight of his servant wandering through his chambers. 

He catches himself scowling at the boy when he isn't looking, catches himself glaring in suspicion when the servant's back is turned. He hasn't visited Gaius either during the time. He's only able to regard the old man with caution when he passes. He would find himself crouched outside the physician's room whenever he sees Merlin visit the old man, wondering if he'll hear them discussing matters worth noting. He's never able to find anything amiss. He only hears Hunith asking her son about his day or Gaius instructing the boy on the ways of the physicians trade. Arthur would always leave the hall moments later, chiding himself for acting in such a way, for having such doubts.

Arthur stirs the spoon in his soup, staring at the contents spinning in endless circles in the bowl. He can hear Merlin shuffling about in the room, picking up the king's dirtied clothes and stuffing them away in the basket for washing. He hears the footsteps move closer to him, only ceasing when he can see the tips of Merlin's boots out of the corner of his eye. He looks up, turning to his servant with a glare.

Merlin gives Arthur a shy smile, one lacking in its usual brightness. He shifts in his spot, hands behind his back as he regards Arthur with a sense of caution. 

The king averts his gaze, not able to look at the boy any longer while knowing that the loud mouthed idiot has grown silent because of his actions. He had watched as Merlin grew distant over the course of the week. He could see the hurt in the boy's eyes every time Arthur snapped at him angrily or when he caught the king watching him with eyes filled with suspicion. He saw the way Merlin flinched on occasion when he approached, the servant always on edge when he addressed him in fear of the king's wrath. He hates seeing the boy in such a way, especially knowing that it was all his fault. He missed Merlin's banter, his insults, his laugh, and his bright smile, but no matter how hard Arthur tries he can't shake the doubt from his mind.

"Arthur?" Merlin calls, voice quiet.

The king stops stirring, setting the spoon down in the bowl before looking up at the boy. He hasn't heard Merlin call him by his name for a few days now and it's refreshing to hear.

"A friend of mine said if something's wrong... you should talk to people. Talk to your family... or your friends," Merlin says, trying yet again for a smile.

"There's nothing wrong," Arthur mutters, unable to stop the coldness from seeping into his voice.

Merlin frowns, the smile dropping. "You shouldn't keep things to yourself. It'll only hurt you more."

The king scowls, "And why should I confide in you for my problems?"

"Because regardless of what you think I'm your friend and I care about you." Merlin smiles, the same bright smile he used to always show. 

Arthur looks away, face heating up. It's not fair. He can't fight against a smile like that.

Merlin leans in closer, the grin still on his face. "Are you going to stop being a prat and tell me why you've been avoiding me or will I have to force you?"

Arthur chuckles, feeling his icy demeanour slowly melt away. "Force me? I can take you apart with one blow."

The smile seems to widen across Merlin's face. He gives a mischievous smirk, "I can take you apart with less than that."

Arthur laughs now, feeling the doubt lifting off his shoulders. "I'd love to see you try."

Merlin grins before tackling the man to the ground, toppling them both from the chair and onto the floor. Arthur jumps in surprise before his battle instincts kick in. Merlin's straddling Arthur's chest, trying his best to pin the king down. Arthur only laughs at the boy's attempt, the lanky servant clearly unable to match the knight's strength. Arthur grabs Merlin's neckerchief, fisting his hand in the fabric and flips them both with ease. The king grins down at the boy, his hands planted on either side of Merlin's head. The servant laughs under him, trying to wriggle out from under Arthur, but the king doesn't budge. 

"Less than that you say?" Arthur smirks.

Merlin chuckles, looking a little crazed what with the excited glint in his eyes and his tousled hair.

Arthur gives a gentle smile. He stands, reaching a hand out for Merlin. The boy takes it, allowing Arthur to pull him to his feet before dusting himself off. 

Arthur keeps his grip firm around the boy's hand, refusing to let go and it seems Merlin isn't inclined to either. The king catches his gaze drifting towards the servant once again, except this time for a different reason. 

His uncle's words are long forgotten in his mind now, left buried away somewhere deep in the back of his mind. The suspicion that had floated about in his head for the last week gone, the doubt having disappeared the moment his eyes met that beaming smile. Arthur laughs at his own gullibility. He should have been able to see it sooner. Merlin? A traitor? Simply ridiculous.

He continues to stare at Merlin. His eyes never drifting away. The servant catches him looking, but doesn't say anything to stop it. He only stares back. 

Neither move in fear of bursting the small bubble they've created around them. The whole world seems to fade away, disappearing from view as they stare at the other. Their eyes remain locked, conveying all the mixed emotions that have tangled together in their chests until it has become an indecipherable mess. They stare at the other longingly, feeling a tugging sensation in their chests, in their hearts. Their hands cling together tightly, feeling complete in the others grasp. Slowly, they start to lean in, moving closer and closer together...

Arthur is the first to let go. He drops his hand and backs away, looking embarrassed as he quickly shifts his gaze away. Merlin seems to be blushing, but gives him a smile, a warm smile, one that melts away all of Arthur's worries.

"Will you tell me what's been bothering you now?" Merlin asks, the edge and nervousness gone from his voice. 

Arthur smiles at him, gently smoothing down the boy's mussed hair, "Someone had... planted a doubt in my mind, but it's been forgotten. There is no need to worry."

\-----

Merlin leaves Arthur's chambers feeling happier than he has in the past week. There's a small skip in his step as he heads through the castle's winding halls. He's managed to learn most of the various pathways and corridors by now, only getting lost once or twice on occasion. He waves at the servants that pass him by, a cheery grin on his face. Some regard him with confusion, raising an eyebrow at the lad that had only just a few hours ago looked beaten and weary. 

Merlin's happy mood only halts momentarily when Agravaine passes him. He catches the man shooting him an irritated glance before walking on by, a sneer on his face. Merlin stares at his receding back, not able to hide his look of discontent for the individual. 

When he had first caught Arthur watching him from the corner of his eye, he was certain that Agravaine had seen him casting the fire spell and told the king. He was terrified throughout the next few days, afraid that Arthur would sneak into his chambers one night and kill him in his sleep. His mornings were spent in fear whenever guards would pass, wondering whether they were coming to arrest him for sorcery. He soon found himself flinching away from the king whenever he approached, expecting a sword to be pointed at his throat. He would address the knight with his proper title and kept his witty retorts to himself, but when days passed and nothing happened, Merlin started to wonder if perhaps he had been wrong in his assumption. He decided to ask the king himself, desperate to know what had created the divide between them. He missed his friend, the prat that would throw goblets at his head and banter with him playfully. He wanted to return to what they had.

Merlin turns away from Agravaine, not allowing the man's glare to ruin his mood. His heart is still swelling in his chest at the sight of Arthur's smile, the sound of Arthur's laugh. He hadn't realized how much he missed them until now. He had suddenly felt a need to protect the man, a willingness to throw himself into the abyss for him so long as that smile remained on his king's face. 

"Merlin! You seem happy today. Did you manage to fix that issue you had?" a voice asks behind him. 

Merlin turns, smiling when he sees Gwen, the lovely serving girl that had been kind enough to teach him the workings of the castle, approaching with a basket in her arms. "Yes, and I must thank you for your advice."

The maid purses her lips, "I did nothing to deserve such thanks. Though I am glad to see you smiling again."

Merlin grins, "I'm assuming you're heading home to make dinner for Lancelot?" He asks, gesturing to the basket in her hands filled with fresh vegetables. 

Gwen blushes before nodding. "Would you like to join us? I'm sure he would enjoy your company."

"I'm afraid it will have to be some other day. I've already promised my mother to visit," Merlin says with a shake of his head.

"Then you best not keep her waiting."

Merlin smiles, giving her a small wave as he leaves, jogging towards the physician's chambers. 

\-----

Agravaine growls under his breath as he passes the boy, all smiling and cheerful. He shoots him a nasty glare out of the corner of his eye, wondering what had brought the boy's spirit up so suddenly. Only this morning had he spotted the boy following nervously behind Arthur during training, hands fidgeting with his tunic and fingers fumbling on the straps of the king's armour. Had something happened?

Agravaine stops when he notices his nephew rounding the corner, also with a pleased expression on his face. He raises an eyebrow. Peculiar indeed.

"Ah, sire," Agravaine greets the king with a smile, "you seem... refreshed."

Arthur smiles, one brighter than any other he's seen in awhile. "Uncle, I must say I'm afraid you were wrong in your speculations," the king says.

"Pardon, my lord?" 

"Your accusations against my manservant, Merlin. After a long week of investigation I must say that I have found nothing to suggest what you say to be the truth. I understand you may have misinterpreted what you had seen and had only been thinking about the kingdoms well being, but I will assure you my servant is nobody you need to fear."

Agravaine hides a scowl from showing on his face. He curses in his head, annoyed that he wasn't able to turn the king against Emrys. There must be something else he can do. Some infallible proof that will leave the king no choice but to execute the boy. He needs to force the smile off his face when an idea enters his mind. Yes, that will do fine.

The king seems to take his uncle's odd facial expressions as a sign of worry. He cocks his head to the side, "You have no need to worry, uncle. I do not hold a grudge against you for what you had said. It was an honest mistake."

Agravaine smiles, giving a bow. "Thank you, sire. Though I best be on my way, oh and do apologize to your servant for me. It seems I have caused him much trouble."


	12. Fears of the Heart

The mandrake root drips onto the floor of Camelot's corridors, the inky substance leaving a trail of darkness in its wake as Agravaine strides purposefully down the hall. The man holds it closer to his chest, concealing it behind his cloak when the servants pass and if they can hear the dripping of the soaked root they keep it to themselves. He can feel the tendrils of his lady's magic swirling around his fingertips as his grip tightens on the plant, the wisps of power emanating strongly from the mandrake as he heads down the halls, twisting and turning as he makes his way towards his destination. He holds another root in his hand, except this one is bare. No hints of magic swirling about its body. No blackness tainting its usual light brown colour. 

Agravaine stops before turning the last corner. He peers around the wall, smirking to himself when he sees the king and his servant disappearing down the hall with the sounds of laughter in their wake.

\-----

Merlin sneaks into the king's chambers the next morning, tiptoeing around the room quietly as he lays out the royal's breakfast on the table. He can hear Arthur snoring loudly. The man's arm is draped over the side of the bed while he lies on his stomach, looking rather un-kingly as he drools in his sleep. 

Merlin chuckles at the sight, ready to tease him on the matter later. He heads towards the curtains when he's finished setting up the table. He grabs the drapes, tearing them open roughly and allowing the morning sun to stream in through the windows.

"Rise and shine!" he calls happily, spinning on his heel to face the groaning Arthur.

The king turns in his bed, his hair messy and eyes half lidded with sleep. He grumbles in Merlin's general direction, something about obnoxious servants before he shuts his eyes again. 

Merlin sighs, grabbing the duvet and yanking it harshly. Arthur keeps his grip firm, clutching at it tightly as his servant attempts to pull the covers away. 

"You..." Merlin grunts, trying to wrench the blanket free, "have a busy day... filled with... council meetings and training." On the last word he manages to pull the covers off. 

He gives a triumphant grin as Arthur groans, mumbling once again to himself as he glares at the servant in exasperation. Arthur crawls from the bed a moment later, eyes squinting at the sun as he faces the window. 

"Is it possible to..." He sighs, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he sits on the edge of the bed, "cancel the meetings?"

Merlin raises an eyebrow at him. "I may be able to arrange it," Merlin says, regarding the king skeptically, "Is something the matter?"

Arthur shakes his head, feeling himself get dizzy from the movement. "Just..." he waves a hand in the air, "not feeling very well. Could you fetch a remedy from Gaius for headaches?"

Merlin nods, looking at the king worriedly before leaving the room.

\-----

Gaius' remedy seems to have done little good as the throb continues to persist throughout the day. Arthur rests his head in his hands as he slouches in his chair, trying to at least finish some of the work beginning to pile on his desk only to no avail. He can't concentrate with the constant pounding in his skull. 

Food nor more sleep seemed to be able to dull the pain in his head. As a matter of fact, sleeping seemed to only make it worse. When he awoke from his nap earlier in the day he felt even more ill than he had when he first awoke. 

He glances up and around the empty chamber, heaving a sigh at the stillness in the air.

He had chosen to send Merlin away, telling him he had the day off in fear of spreading his illness to the boy as well. Merlin had refused rather adamantly at first, as he does to every order Arthur gives, insisting he stay and treat the king until he's well. Though Arthur was rather touched at the gesture he continued to press the boy until he finally gave in. Merlin left with a frown on his face, informing him that he would be in his own chambers next door in case he was needed.

Once the door had shut, Arthur was immediately hit with the silence in the room. He was almost tempted to call Merlin back, wanting to hear the boy's silly stories about his life in Ealdor or just to hear him stumbling about. Anything to bring some life back into the room.  

Arthur groans, rubbing at his forehead as another wave of nausea hits him. He looks back down at the parchments on his desk, having no desire to sift through all that paperwork. He gets to his feet, managing to stumble over to his bed before collapsing down onto it. He shuts his eyes, hoping that maybe some more rest would do him some good. 

He lies there for a moment, about to drift off into sleep when the sound of voices cheering wake him. He furrows his brows, wondering what all the commotion is about. He clambers out of bed, movements still sluggish as he makes his way to the window that faces the courtyard below. He grips the edge of the wall for leverage as he peers out of the stained glass. 

His breath catches in his throat when he sees the pyre built up high in the centre of the courtyard. He can see the crowd outside, cheering and shouting taunts at the small figure that is pulled up towards the stake. The knights pull the boy roughly by the arms, his hands are bound behind his back as he's dragged towards the pyre still kicking and shouting. 

Arthur tries to focus on the boy's face, wondering who the council had decided to sentence without at least notifying him. He freezes when he recognizes the familiar mop of black hair, the pale skin, and large ears. Arthur staggers backwards, almost tripping on the curtain in his rush away from the window. He scrambles out of the room, dashing through the halls and out into the courtyard. 

He stands on the steps, frozen in horror at the sight before him. He takes a few slow steps down, hardly able to believe this is true. The boy is pinned to the stake, his eyes seem red from crying and his wrists are bleeding from the rope. Agravaine stands by the pyre, torch in hand, ready to set the stake alight.

Arthur reaches a hand out, his whole body trembling with fear as he moves closer towards the centre of the courtyard. "Merlin..." he breathes out, "Merlin!" he's shouting now, voice desperate. His heart hammers in his chest, pounding at a frightening pace.

No one hears him. His uncle directs the torch towards the bundles of branches leaning against the platform without a single shred of guilt for what he's doing. The flames leap onto the wood, catching it alight quickly. It spreads through the pile in a blink of an eye, soon starting to jump up the sides of the wooden post in the centre. 

Merlin thrashes in the middle of it all. His voice is drowned out by the cheering crowd who continue to jeer at the servant. He can see Merlin turn his head and look straight at him, the first person to acknowledge his presence in the courtyard. He can see tears tracks running down the sides of his face. 

"A-Arthur..." he hears him say, voice hoarse, "Arthur... please. I'm sorry. Please, I-I wouldn't-"

His words are cut off as a scream tears through his throat. The flames lick higher up his body, engulfing him completely till all Arthur can see is red. 

Arthur's chest constricts painfully. He continues staggering forward, not caring that he was about to delve into the inferno. The only thought in his mind is to save Merlin, to pull him from the fire and wrap his arms around him, to keep him safe. The very thought of losing his smile, his laugh, and his ridiculous jokes make him want to join the boy. Anything would be better than losing him. 

Arthur stretches a hand out, reaching for his servant, his friend, the person he loved more than anything. 

Suddenly, he feels his arm being wrenched back. He struggles forward, shouting curses and kicking with all his might despite his throbbing head. He tries to shake loose, to reach towards Merlin again.

"Arthur! Stop it! Calm down..." Merlin's voice.

He blinks, and immediately the flames are gone. The pyre, the cheering crowd, Agravaine, everything. 

The courtyard is quiet. The only sounds are the whispers from the few townspeople and servants milling about as well as the laboured breaths of his knights and servant around him. Arthur gazes at his friends. Percival is the one behind him, keeping the king's arms pinned as gently as he can. Leon stands beside him, eyebrows creased in worry with Lancelot, Elyan, and Gwaine all doing the same. 

The last person he sees is Merlin, standing right in front of him with his hands cupping the sides of his face. He can feel the boy's breath brush past as his manservant heaves a sigh, a smile forming on his lips.

"Arthur?" he says again, voice quiet, "What happened?"

The king can only stare at his friend standing in front of him, paying no attention to his words. The minute Percival lets his arms drop they're latched onto Merlin's thin frame. His arms wrap around the boy's neck, pulling him closer as he burrows his head into his shoulder. He can feel Merlin tense under him before his body relaxes. Merlin's arm reaches up, gently patting the king's back as Arthur clutches the boy desperately, afraid he'd disappear if he let go.

\-----

Merlin leans against the headboard of his bed, reading one of the books he borrowed from Gaius' chambers about special herbs. He had wanted to study from his spell book, but unfortunately, the old man had forbidden him from reading any and all magical texts outside the physician's quarters, leaving him with nothing left to read but Gaius' medicine books. 

He sighs, tossing the book onto the desk where a pile has already begun to form. He leans back against the bed, planning to get some rest when he hears loud stamping coming from Arthur's chambers. 

"Arthur?" he calls out, sitting up.

No response.

Merlin frowns, worried now that Arthur may have collapsed or worse. He springs out from the bed, heading into the king's chambers in time to see the man dash out of the room.

"Arthur!" Merlin calls, quickly following after him down the hall.

He's left breathless as he twists and turns through the corridors, surprised at Arthur's agility despite his ill state. Merlin only stops when he loses the king, leaning a hand against the wall to catch his breath as he spins about, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man's blond hair. 

He sighs when he sees nobody around, cursing at his own incompetence. 

"Merlin!" Gwaine calls cheerfully, strolling towards the man before throwing an arm around his shoulder. "We're heading to the tavern tonight," he grins, gesturing to the other knights behind him who gives the servant a bright smile, "are you coming?"

Merlin shakes his head, peeling the knight's arm off his body. "I can't. Not today. Have any of you seen Arthur?"

Leon frowns, expression turning serious in an instant. "No, why? What's happened?"

Merlin looks away, continuing to scan through the many corridors in the citadel for the king. "I suddenly heard Arthur running out of his chambers. I don't know where he's gone."

"Um... Merlin," Elyan says, pointing out the window towards a figure outside. 

Merlin peers out, eyes widening when he spots the king outside. The man remains still in the courtyard, gaze trained on what seems to be nothing but the castle wall. 

Merlin frowns, turning before dashing down the hall, the knights following after him as they rush down the steps and into the courtyard. 

His breath catches in his throat when he finds Arthur with an arm outstretched and tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Percival is the first to reach the king. The large knight wrenches Arthur's arm back, trying to keep him still as he struggles against his grip. Arthur kicks out at Percival, yelling a stream of curses as he tries to reach forward again. 

Merlin stops in front of Arthur, standing face to face with the king. The blond doesn't register him in his sights, he seems to stare through him, eyes focused on something else. 

"Arthur!" Merlin screams, hoping to snap the man back into his senses, but the king continues to struggle. 

"Arthur! Stop it!" He brings his hands up to cup the man's cheeks. The struggling starts to lessen, his body going slack. "Calm down..." Merlin breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur blinks, the haze disappearing from his eyes. Merlin gives a sigh of relief, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Arthur?" Merlin says, praying to every being out there that his king had returned to his senses, "What happened?" 

The man doesn't respond, only proceeds to wrap his arms around Merlin's neck the moment he's free from Percival's grasp. 

Merlin stiffens, feeling a light fluttering in his chest at the sudden embrace. He quickly pushes it aside, letting his body relax before reaching a hand up to gently pat the king's back. He feels Arthur's grip tighten around him, clinging onto him almost desperately now. 

Merlin turns towards Leon, who's glancing around uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gazes of the public. "We need to get him inside. Rumours will spread if anymore people see him in such a state," Leon says, trying to usher the two of them into the citadel.

Merlin nods in agreement, pulling Arthur off of him reluctantly. The king seems to disagree with the action. The moment his arms are off they attach themselves back on, pulling Merlin even closer to the king's body. 

"Arthur," Merlin says, making sure to keep his voice gentle, "we need to get you inside."

Arthur stays silent for a moment. "You won't leave?" he mutters, voice mostly muffled by Merlin's coat.

Merlin gives a soft smile, moving a hand up to stroke at Arthur's hair. "I won't leave. Not now, not ever."

The king loosens his grip, taking a step back. Merlin can see him trying to recompose himself, to force the regal expression back on his face only to fail miserably. His shoulders slump back down, his eyes looking tired. He staggers slightly on his feet as he makes his way to the palace doors. Lancelot is beside him in an instant, placing a hand on Arthur's waist while bringing the blond's arm up and around his shoulder. The knight helps to carry Arthur back, sending Elyan a look before jutting his chin towards the physician's chambers. The blacksmith nods before scurrying off to find Gaius.

Merlin follows behind Lancelot, making sure to keep himself in view of the king as they make their way back to the royal chambers. He can't help but wonder what had made the king act in such way. Was it the illness? Or was it something else? He can only hope Gaius has a cure of some sort, if not, perhaps his mentor would allow him to use magic, just this once.

\-----

Merlin paces around the room as Gaius performs his usual checkup routine on the king. His mother hovers by the physician, aiding Gaius in whatever way possible. 

Arthur lies quietly in his bed, only responding as briefly as he can when the need arises. He has yet to say what had occurred. He seems to pale at the very mention of what had transpired and always seems to send Merlin a glance. The warlock can't seem to describe the look in the man's eyes. It seems to carry a sense of apprehension and longing. Two things that Merlin are unable to piece together.

"I suggest you get some sleep, sire," Gaius says, placing a sleeping draught into the king's hand, "Some rest may aid in your road to recovery."

Arthur nods, drinking the brew before handing the empty bottle back. "Thank you, Gaius, Hunith," he says.

They both give him a gentle smile. "If you need anything, send for me."

Arthur nods again before the pair prepares to leave. Gaius packs his medicine satchel while Hunith gives her son an affectionate kiss on the cheek. She wishes him a goodnight then exits the room, closing the door gently behind them. 

Merlin stands awkwardly to the side, unsure now about what he should do. He glances towards his chamber door, debating whether or not to leave. He should give the king some rest, after all he's been through much. "I'll be in my chambers then. If you need anything, just call," Merlin says with a smile. 

He turns to leave the room, only to be stopped by Arthur's quiet voice. "I haven't dismissed you yet..." Merlin stops, looking back at the king. Arthur's sitting up against the headboard of his bed, eyes tired and drained as he stares down at the covers. He picks at the cloth, turning his head up to look at his servant from under his lashes. "You're supposed to stay until I dismiss you."

Merlin sighs, a small smile on his face as he nods his head. "Of course, sire."

He moves to pull a chair up beside the bed, seating himself down by the edge while Arthur lies back down on the pillows. The king turns till he's facing the servant, a satisfied look in his eyes. Arthur reaches a hand out, holding onto Merlin's own.

The warlock doesn't mind the contact, rather he relishes in it. He holds firm to Arthur's hand, leaning his head down to rest on the bed while he stares into the other's eyes. 

"Sweet dreams, prat," Merlin says, voice barely above a whisper in the silent room.

"Goodnight, idiot," Arthur replies. The first smile Merlin has seen all day crossing his face. 

The king shuts his eyes, drifting off into sleep as his servant does the same.


	13. A Friend's Trust

Arthur wakes with a soft smile on his face as he gazes with adoration at the servant beside him. Merlin sleeps with his head resting atop his arms as they lay crossed on the bed. One hand still holds onto Arthur's as he snores quietly, a peaceful expression on his face. 

Arthur reaches out a free hand, running his fingers through the boy's hair gently as not to wake him. Merlin stirs only moments later, shifting in his seat as he blinks. He looks up and gives the king a lazy grin. 

"Rise and shine," he mumbles sleepily.

"You're late again, as usual," Arthur says with a grin.

Merlin yawns, snuggling his head down further into his arms as he allows the king's gentle caresses to soothe him. "Thought you said it was my day off?" Merlin says cheekily.

"That was yesterday. Today, you need to work."

Merlin puts on a pout, but does nothing to move. The king doesn't complain though, he's rather content with their current position and thus does nothing to move either. They remain that way for awhile, simply lazing about in the morning sun as the world continues to move around them. 

Arthur doesn't realize how much time has passed until he hears a knock sound at the door. Immediately, they spring apart. The king pulls his hand away from the soft curls of Merlin's hair and they quickly release their hold on the other as they shuffle far from one another. Arthur tries to look as though he's just awoken while the servant sits up straight and rigid in the chair, his body tense as he looks to the door.

"Enter," Arthur grumbles out, not bothering to hide the agitation in his voice.

Gaius enters the room with Agravaine close behind. Merlin seems to relax slightly at the sight of the old physician, sending the elder a smile. He gets up from his chair, moving aside for Gaius to do his work. 

"How are you feeling today, sire?" Gaius asks, standing beside the king's bed.

"Better than yesterday," Arthur replies, scooting up to lean against the headboard.

"That's always good to hear," Gaius smiles, turning away to pull out some supplies.

Agravaine steps over, shooting Merlin a look before turning his attention back on his nephew. He gives a smile. "I'm glad to hear you are recovering, my lord," he says, "Will you be well enough to attend the council meeting today?"

"I believe so. I do apologize for inconveniencing you the previous day. I understand you had to head the meeting in my absence," Arthur answers, giving a tentative smile, not able to look the man in the eyes after what had happened the previous day. A shudder runs down his spine at the memory of Agravaine lighting the pyre, the flames curling up the stake. He knows he can't blame his uncle for what he saw during his hallucination. It never really happened after all, but nonetheless he can't face the man without feeling the urge to punch him.

"It was not an issue. I'm happy to be of service."

Arthur nods, returning his attention back towards the physician as the man begins the examination.

\----

Arthur sighs, regretting his decision to attend the meeting today the moment he sat down. Hours had ticked by as the nobles and knights gave their reports on matters in the kingdom. Generally, everything was fine. There were no food shortages or droughts to be found anywhere. The people are content and no bandits seemed to be terrorizing the populace. Even Morgana seemed to be quiet.

His head still thrummed during the meeting, but thankfully the pain had subsided greatly compared to the previous day. The headache though was nothing compared to the boredom of council meetings. He would have fallen asleep on the table on numerous occasions had Merlin not been behind him kicking at his foot whenever he seemed to be drifting off. He needs to remember to give the boy some extra chores once they return to his chambers. Perhaps mucking out the stables?

Leon had just finished his latest report when the sound of footsteps fill the room. Arthur's head shoots up, looking around for the source of the noise with a furrowed brow. The others around the table regard him curiously, staring at him in question as he swivels his head around. 

"Sire?" Lancelot calls, trying to gain his attention.

Arthur turns to look at the knight. 

"Is something the matter?" he asks.

The sound dies away. "No. Everything's fine. Carry on," he says with a wave of his hand.

The man nods, still regarding him skeptically before Agravaine rises, giving his report.

The drone of his uncle's voice continues on for some time before a shudder runs down the king's spine at the sound of a cold voice. "Arthur..."

He stands abruptly, the scrape of his chair as it drags across the floor pulling everyone's attention towards him.

Arthur's eyes are wide, pupils dilated as he trembles because he recognizes that voice, recognizes the regal and commanding tone. He turns slowly, finding the old king, the man he used to call father, seated in his elaborate throne on the dais, crown atop his head. A shiver runs down Arthur's spine at the sight of Uther's pointed glare, his regal posture. Suddenly, he doesn't feel like the powerful king that he is. He feels like the naive prince. The one that walked in the king's shadow, wanting nothing more than his father's approval. He feels himself cowering back in fear as his father rises from the throne, increasing his height and making Arthur feel even smaller than before.

His father stops a few feet away. "Arthur," his voice is firm, commanding. He can feel himself straighten at the sound of his name. "you..." the elder king snarls, "are a disappointment."

Uther circles around the table, eyes firmly planted on the young king. Arthur follows his father's gaze, head trailing after the man in shock. Uther finally stops, standing now on the opposite end of the table. "All... this..." he gestures towards the group of knights and advisors gathered around. "is a disappointment. You allow these... peasants to become knights?! You allow them to question your judgment, to tell you what is right and wrong?!" Uther's voice steadily rises in volume, anger and humiliation in his words. "You have dishonoured the Pendragon name that I have worked all my life to build up with your actions!" He slams his fist down on the table, making the goblets clatter to the floor, spilling water and wine across the wood.

Arthur stutters, trying to find something, anything at all to say, but the words don't come out. He finds himself looking down at the floor, feeling utterly ashamed for having disappointed his father. He wants to say something, to at least give the reasons for his actions, but the young prince inside him doesn't want to speak out of turn, doesn't want to go against his father. So, he keeps silent. He hangs his head down, staring at the floor in shame as his father lectures him, as he always used to. He did never seem to be able to make his father proud.

The royal stops in front of him, face only a mere inch from his own. He can see almost feel the ire radiating off the old king, the fuming hatred the man must feel. "You are no son of mine," His father snarls, voice low and lips curling upwards in a sneer, "You are no Pendragon."

Uther turns with a sweep of his cape, heading towards the double doors. He slams them shut, causing the chandelier above the table to rattle on its chain, threatening to collapse. Arthur staggers backwards, his legs feeling weak as he breaths heavily. He falls into his seat, eyes wide and filled with terror, disappointment. He has failed as king.

"Your highness?" Leon calls, concerned.

Arthur looks up, seeing the faces of his friends, uncle, and Merlin nearby. He turns his head away, not wanting to face any of them.

"Arthur?" Merlin calls this time, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

He shrugs it off, leaning away from the boy's touch, casting his eyes downwards in shame. He can hear the knights and nobles whispering amongst themselves, mumbling to each other quietly as they send curious looks towards their king. He feels Percival tug at his arm a moment later, a gentle look on his face as he smiles. 

"Come on, I'll help you to your chambers," he says, pulling him up from his seat.

\-----

Merlin paces up and down Arthur's chambers nervously as Gaius examines the young king. Arthur doesn't move, remaining still on the bed as the physician does his work. Hunith is absent today Merlin notes, most likely having been kept busy with collecting herbs for the old man. 

Agravaine waits by the bed, watching the king with a look Merlin can't place. The man doesn't say anything, doesn't show the least bit of concern for his ill nephew. He simply stands and watches, no look of concern showing on his face which the servant finds rather peculiar.

Gaius sighs a few moments later, straightening his back with a crack after having been hunched over for so long. He turns towards the others in the room and shakes his head. "I'm afraid I can't give a diagnosis. I've never seen anything that matches his symptoms," Gaius says.

Merlin's shoulders slump, feeling his hopes deflate the moment the words left his mentor's mouth. 

"Could it possibly be magic?" Agravaine asks suddenly, making Merlin flinch on the spot.

Gaius nods. "It's not out of the question."

Agravaine gives a sneer. "Then we must find this sorcerer at once." He turns, heading towards the door.

"You mustn't act so rashly," Gaius calls out, making the man stop and turn. "Until we know for sure I suggest you refrain from doing such. After all there is no need to worry the people."

Agravaine gives a knowing smirk, "But time is of the essence. Our lord may perish if we are to wait for too long. If there may be a sorcerer amongst us we must find them. Unless, you have something to hide, physician?"

Merlin closes his fists in anger, clenching his teeth as he holds himself back from setting the man's hair ablaze. How dare he accuse Gaius of harming the king! The physician was the most kind hearted man he's ever known. He wouldn't harm even the most fiendish of criminals! "Are-" Merlin begins, about to release his anger at the noble before he is cut off by Gaius shooting him a pointed look. The old man gives a small shake of his head before turning back towards Agravaine. He stands up straighter, holding his chin up higher. 

"Of course not. I was merely stating my mind," he says, voice firm and resolute. 

Agravaine gives a small smile. "I see. Then I best be off. The sooner we end this sorcery the better."

He turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

The anger still boils in Merlin's head even after the man has left the room. The warlock crosses his arms over his chest, a frown on his face as he glares at the door. He wonders if he could manage to get away with 'accidentally' turning Agravaine into a hideous toad. "Merlin..." Gaius chides him, looking at him with a shake of his head, seeming to already know what he's thinking. 

Merlin sighs, frown dropping from his face. He's not afraid to admit he's slightly disappointed at not being able to go through with his plan. 

He looks towards Arthur, seeing the way the powerful king lies quietly in his bed, looking vulnerable and... weak. He walks over to his side, reaching a hand out to brush the hair out of Arthur's eyes as the king stares into nothingness. "Is there anything I can do? With my... magic?" he asks, keeping his eyes trained on his friend.

"Merlin... you know how dangerous that can be," Gaius says, worry evident in his tone. 

"I know, but... if I can help why shouldn't I?" Merlin turns on the physician, eyes stinging with tears. "What is the purpose of my magic if I can't use it to save people, to help them! What is the purpose if I can't save my friend?"

Gaius looks down at the floor. He remains silent for a moment, before looking back up, sadness in his eyes as he gazes at his apprentice. "It is just too dangerous. You heard Agravaine. He'll be searching for sorcerers and if you're not careful it will be your head on the chopping block. Science may yet solve this problem. You must be patient."

Merlin sighs, turning back towards Arthur. He gazes at the king for a moment, feeling the tears prickling at his eyes the longer he stares. He tugs the covers up, pulling the blankets higher to help shield the king from the cold. He turns, ready to leave with Gaius when he notices Arthur shift. He looks back to find the blonde staring at him. The royal's eyes seem glassy, defeated, but nonetheless concerned as he scrunches his brows at his servant. "Why are you crying?" he asks, voice raspy. 

Merlin sniffles, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. He puts on a smile, grinning as brightly as he can. "It's nothing to worry about," he says.

\----

Merlin heaves a sigh, kicking a pebble down the path as he makes his way through the lower town. The sun is up and the day is warm, but Merlin can't find himself able to smile. Back in Ealdor he would have been strolling through the woods or helping to tend the fields, happy to see such fine weather, but how can he smile when Arthur remains ill in his chambers? 

He sighs, turning back to look at the looming castle. He stares at the window he knows belongs to the king's chambers, wondering whether his friend is well or not. He would do anything to be up there at the moment, tending to his king, but Gaius had urged him not to work today as Agravaine had decided to conduct a thorough search of Arthur's chambers. Having been afraid that his apprentice would do something stupid the physician had ushered Merlin from the room when he arrived in the morning to examine Arthur. Merlin had protested of course, pounding on both doors into Arthur's chambers as he yelled for Gaius to let him in. 

Eventually, he had given up when he heard Agravaine arrive with a small group of knights. He had let out a quiet string of curses before leaving, not caring that his mother would have lectured him till dusk had she heard the words he had said. 

He turns back around towards the path, continuing to kick the pebble down the road until he crashes into someone's chest. 

"You better watch where you're going," the figure in front of him says and Merlin's head shoots up instantly.

"Will?"

His friend grins at him, throwing his arms out wide. "The one and only."

Merlin can't help the small smile the tugs on his lips. He hugs his friend, wrapping his arms around him tightly before pulling away. He looks Will up and down, noticing the light burns on his hands and the new cuts decorating his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, worried, "Do you need to see Gaius?"

Will grins. "No need, they'll heal in a few days. Nothing major."

"How did you get away? I thought you were dead!" 

Will scratches at his head. "Was lucky I would say. Those bandits really tore the place up, but they left rather quickly. I managed to stay hidden until they all cleared away. Then, these..." a scowl crosses Will's face, "knights appeared and took the survivors here. I'm only glad to see you managed to make it out safely as well. How's your mother?"

Merlin gives a sigh of relief at hearing that at least a few more of the villagers had managed to escape Morgana's attack. "She's safe along with Gaius and many others. We have Arthur and his knights to thank for that."

Will scowls at the mere mention of the king. "Ah, that king eh? You wouldn't catch me dead thanking that man. Where is he now? He was practically stuck with you back in Ealdor."

Merlin looks down at the dirt, eyes sad once more. "He's... ill."

Will rolls his eyes at him. "Why're you worried for that noble? We all know what he would do if he ever found out about you."

Merlin frowns. "Arthur wouldn't do that. He's my friend."

"He's your friend?" Will scoffs, "Then tell me, why does he not know? If you trust him so much why haven't you told him yet?"

Merlin looks away, not able to answer.

Will takes his silence as a sign of victory. "A friend is someone that you can trust and someone that trusts you. They are someone that has your back no matter what. We are your friends," he gestures to himself and a few of the citizens of Ealdor that pass by, "him?" he points towards the citadel, "he isn't. He would turn you in within a heartbeat. He would see you burn before accepting you."

Merlin's shoulders slump even lower at Will's words. He rubs at his elbow, seeing the truth in what his friend says. He glances back at the palace, feeling a sense dread at the sight. The stories his mother had told him about Camelot return to his mind. The warnings about the men clad in red and the flaming pyres make him tremble slightly. 

He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He thinks of Arthur, of the prat's laughs and smiles, of all the time they had spent together. He wants to hope that Arthur would never turn him in, that they have grown close enough for the king to trust him and forgive him if the truth was ever revealed, but a small part of his brain keeps pestering him, warning him that Arthur may not be as understanding as he hopes. 

"I'm only warning you, Merlin," Will says, prompting Merlin to look back up at his friend, "you can't trust that man. Those nobles... they're all the same. They don't care about us commoners. They only care about themselves."

"Arthur's different. I know he is," Merlin says with a shake of his head, though he isn't sure whether he's trying to convince Will or himself.

His friend only shrugs. "Believe what you will, but know that I'm always here for you. I'll kill that man if he tries anything." Will gives a smile as he turns to leave.

\-----

Merlin heaves a sighs as he grinds the herbs with the pestle, Will's words still floating about in his head as he works. He tries to keep his mind off his worries by glancing around the room. He finds his mother standing by the small fire, stirring a pot of stew as it bubbles. The scent is enough to make Merlin's stomach rumble. His mouth waters at the thought of his mother's cooking. He's tempted to ask for a small taste when Gaius suddenly enters the room, looking urgent and panicked.

"Merlin, you must leave. Now," he says, already grabbing an empty sack and pushing it into his arms.

Merlin hardly has time to recover from his mentor's sudden words before blankets, food, and potions are stuffed into the sack. The warlock stutters, unsure of what to say as Gaius hurries about the room, gathering supplies. 

"What do you mean?" Hunith asks, eyes filled with fear, forgetting about her cooking momentarily. 

Gaius stops, turning back towards the mother and son with a solemn look in his eyes. He opens his mouth to answer only to be interrupted by the door being thrown open forcibly enough to be torn off its hinges. 

Agravaine emerges from the doorway with a triumphant smile, stepping into the room with a group of knights standing behind him. He lifts a hand, pointing straight towards Merlin. 

"Arrest him."


	14. A Story of Betrayal

Merlin's eyes widen with fear as the guards behind Agravaine surge forward. They grab each of his arms roughly, starting to pull him out of the room and towards the dungeons. He struggles in their grip, hoping to break free only to no avail, their hands hold firm. 

"What right have you to arrest him? He has done nothing wrong!" Merlin hears his mother shout from somewhere behind him. She tries to lurch forward to attack the men holding her son only for Gaius to push her back, keeping a firm hand on Hunith as she tries desperately to reach for the warlock.

Merlin glances back, his heart wrenching in his chest at the sight of his mother's tearful face. He can see Gaius whispering something into her ear while she continues to struggle, her expression is filled with pain as she glares daggers at the smirking noble.

"Your son is under arrest for the use of sorcery and enchantments. Now if you will excuse me," Agravaine says, pushing Merlin from the room, hardly sparing the grieving mother a second glance. He stops by the door turning back to face the room. "I do apologize for the trouble," he says, giving the physician a bow, "we'll take our leave now."

He turns and leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The smile remains on his face as he looks the boy up and down as though he were assessing his latest prey. His lips curl up into a sneer as he starts down the hall, gesturing for the knights behind him to follow. 

Merlin scowls towards Agravaine's back as he's dragged through the halls. He grits his teeth with anger as he tries to keep his magic at bay. He can feel the thrum of energy inside him, the rush of power that's threatening to seep out and attack. He's tempted to let it loose, to allow his magic to hurl these men against the wall and run, but the last thing he should do is give Agravaine any more evidence to his claims. Even now, he's unsure how the man found out. Did he see him casting the fire spell after all? If he had why did he do nothing until now? Does Arthur know? The last thought makes a shiver run up his spine. He's not ready to face the king, not ready to tell him the truth.

He's thrown into one of the cells a few moments later, wincing when the rocks dig into his knees and palms. He hears the metal door shut behind him with a loud thud, the lock clicking into place as Agravaine and the guards take their leave.

Merlin groans, shifting to lean up against the wall. He glances about, taking in his new, hopefully temporary, home. The stones surrounding him are damp and seem almost black in the dimness. A small grate is imbedded in the wall behind him, letting in a minimal amount of light from the setting sun. There's straw spread across the ground for him to lie on, but after having spotted a rat scurry under the bundle he'd rather stay away in fear of being bitten. The metal rods in front of him bar him from the hall where two guards are seated around a wooden table. They keep their eyes on him at all times, gazes nervous as their shaking hands rest on the hilts of their swords. 

Merlin sighs, rolling his eyes at them as he tries to make himself comfortable on the floor of the cell. He crosses his arms on his chest, lying his head on the rough stone. His brow furrows as he continues shifting in his spot, unable to find a decent position. He heaves another sigh as he thinks back to last night. He already misses the softness of Arthur's bed under his head and the warmth of the king's hand in his own as he sleeps. 

"Merlin..."

The warlock winces as they strange voice decides to contact him again. He groans, lifting a hand up to his head. 

"Come..."

The voice continues to beckon him, urging him to move. Merlin only turns around, facing the wall now as he shuts his eyes, hoping to block out the mutters from the voice in his head. 

\-----

"Good morning, sire," A voice says beside him.

Arthur groans, turning over in his bed to face away from the morning sun that filters through the glass. He pulls the pillow over his ears. "Shut up, Merlin," he mutters.

"I'm not Merlin, my lord." 

Arthur jolts up in surprise, his hand flying out to grab the sword that leans against his bedside table at the thought of a potential intruder. He sits up straight, now alert, with a sword held aloft and pointed towards the voice by his side. He only stops himself from stabbing the man when he notices the servant attire. He squints to get a better look, only to find a rather dull looking man standing before him.

The servant doesn't seem to flinch at the sight of the weapon pointed his way. He remains still, only taking a step back to avoid the sharp end. He gives a small bow when he sees the king lower his sword. 

"Who are you?" Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow.

"The name is George, sire. Your new manservant," the man, George, says while beaming with pride. He turns towards the table which has been piled high with various dishes and begins to grab a platter. 

Arthur can only stare in puzzlement as the man places slices of meat and cheese onto a plate. The king glances around, searching the room for Merlin only to find him nowhere to be seen. "I'm sorry, um... George, but there must be some mistake," Arthur says, setting his weapon back down by the table. The man turns, giving the king a quizzical raise of a brow. "I already have a manservant and it seems he's late yet again," Arthur finishes, clambering out of bed to stand with his arms crossed. 

George tilts his head in curiosity, "Have you not heard, sire?"

Arthur furrows his brow, shaking his head.

"Your manservant was arrested last night. His trial is in an hour."

Arthur lets out a laugh, throwing his head back as he tries to catch his breath. "George I know you've wanted this job for some time now, but lying isn't going to help."

George looks even more confused at the accusation. "I'm afraid I am serious, sire. Merlin was arrested last night by Lord Agravaine. It seems he was the caster of the enchantment that had caused your sudden illness. There is nothing to worry about though, sire, as Lord Agravaine has managed to lift the enchantment. According to Gaius you should feel fine and fit today."

Arthur shifts his gaze away from George, not wanting to heed the man's words, but regardless his suspicion is peaked when he notices now that his headache has indeed disappeared. There's no longer a throbbing pain in the back of his head or a sudden dizziness when he tries to walk. The unease he had been feeling the previous days are all gone without even a single trace they had ever been present. A sudden recovery overnight wouldn't be possible, at least if it had been a normal illness. He doesn't doubt that magic had been involved, but the source coming from Merlin?

The king glances to the door that leads into his servant's chambers. He pictures the bumbling idiot in his head, trying to see him as a wicked sorcerer bent on revenge, but no matter how hard he tries the image always fades away into one of the boy's innocent smiles that seems to brighten everything around him. He simply cannot fathom such a possibility. Merlin is... Merlin. He can't hurt anyone. 

"There must be some mistake," Arthur says, now visibly distressed.

George shakes his head. "Lord Agravaine had been quite certain of his suspicions. As I've stated previously, Merlin's trial will begin in an hour and your presence is required. Now, we must hurry, my lord. We can't allow you to be late." George sets the plate down and shuffles towards the wardrobe, pulling clothes from the racks.

Arthur can only stand and stare in silence at the door to Merlin's chambers. The mention of his uncle had jolted a memory in his head. He remembers Agravaine's words from over a week ago, the accusations against his friend. He had managed to push the thoughts aside for awhile now, but the sudden new information has reignited the suspicion in his mind. 

He reaches a hand out, tearing the clothes from the new servant's arms before moving behind the screen to change. His heart feels heavy in his chest as he readies himself mentally for the trial.

\-----

Merlin opens his eyes and immediately lets out a deep sigh. Despite it only happening once he misses waking to the sight of Arthur's gentle smile. He misses seeing the golden king lying close to him and misses the feel of his hand running through his hair. He heaves another sigh before glancing up to the small grating in the wall, noticing the sun already shining in the sky. Arthur should be up now.

"Merlin?" A soft voice calls. Merlin turns to look behind him, surprised to find a worried looking Lancelot and Gwaine standing by the cell door. They're both watching him through the bars as the former unlocks the gate and pushes it open. They take a step forward before Lancelot holds out a hand. "It's time for your trial," he says.

Merlin nods, taking the offered hand and getting to his feet. Gwaine pulls out a pair of iron manacles and takes a step closer, looking guilty as he holds them up. "I'm sorry, but..."

"It's alright," Merlin interrupts, giving the man a smile, touched at his worry for him. 

Gwaine tries to smile back, but it drops quickly once he snaps the cuffs on. He can feel them try and hold him as gently as possible as they lead him from the prison. He passes many scowling guards on his way up to the council chambers where no doubt knights, nobles, and the king will be waiting. 

Gwaine's face is set in a permanent scowl during the entire walk. He muttered to himself at first, cursing Agravaine under his breath with each step until Lancelot had given him a shove with his shoulder. The knight had grumbled one last time before remaining silent for the rest of the trip. 

Lancelot would shoot the manservant a reassuring smile every once in a while, trying to bring Merlin's hopes up by telling him how Arthur was a fair king and how he would clear him of this misunderstanding. Merlin tried to smile, showing his confidence in the matter, but it was rather difficult when he knows that Agravaine is right. He is a sorcerer. He is a warlock. There is no lie nor misunderstanding. He still holds onto the hope regardless, wanting to show Will that he was wrong. Arthur will forgive him, will understand, because Arthur is his friend.

Merlin can feel his pulse quicken as the doors to the council chambers open, revealing the group of people inside. He recognizes most of the faces in the crowd. There's the other knights standing close to the door, their faces carrying the same sullen look as Lancelot and Gwaine. He spots Gwen peering from behind one of the side entrances, eyes brimming with tears as she cups her mouth with a hand. Gaius is standing a short distance from the king's chair in the back of the room, Hunith beside him who looks to have been crying. Then there's Agravaine, a smirk plastered to his face as he stands before the throne, a bundle of cloth in his hand. 

Merlin's eyes don't linger on them for long as Lancelot and Gwaine gently set him down at the foot of the throne, his hands still bound in front of him as he kneels. Merlin tilts his head up, feeling the true divide between himself and his friend now as he looks up at Arthur who's seated upon his throne with a look of regality like the king that he is. Merlin feels the urge to cower back from the man who seems so foreign compared to the smiling king that he knows, but he holds his own, refusing to look away from Arthur's eyes which seem devoid of emotion. He wonders how the king had taken the news of his arrest. Was he angry? Sad? Or did he not even care?

Arthur is the first to tear their gazes apart. He looks back up towards Agravaine who stands before him, still with that smirk upon his face. "You claim that my manservant was the culprit for my sudden... illness," Arthur says, eyes narrowing at his uncle, "What proof do you have to support this conclusion?"

Agravaine takes a step forward, presenting the bundle in his hands to the king. Arthur glances down at it skeptically before grabbing the cloth and unwrapping it. As the fabric falls away it reveals two mandrake roots, at least that's what Merlin assumes from what he has seen in pictures from Gaius' spell books. It was said sorcerers would use such roots for curses and enchantments. Whether they were for good or bad the warlock is unsure. He was never able to read much about them before he had grown bored and flipped to another page. 

Arthur picks up the two roots. One a pure black colour and the other a light brown. He seems to weigh them in his hands before turning back up to Agravaine, waiting for him to explain. 

"These roots are the source of the enchantment," Agravaine begins, taking the darker one into his hand, "This root was the one I had found under your bed. Once I had found it I had taken it immediately to Gaius who had determined for me that this was indeed what had caused your hallucinations."

Arthur turns to glance at the physician for confirmation. Gaius has no choice but to give a slight nod. "Indeed it is true, sire. The mandrake root has been used by sorcerers in the times before the Great Purge to drive their enemies mad."

The king gives a quick glance down at Merlin, who notices the small glint of sadness in his eyes before Arthur returns his attention back towards Agravaine. "You have proved that sorcery was at work here, but how does this link to Merlin?"

Agravaine smirks, now taking the other root in his hand. "Not many individuals have access to the king's chambers, but your servant is one of them. I'm sure you remember my previous suspicions on the boy," Merlin jerks slightly at the words. "and with a sudden illness falling upon you soon after his arrival I could not help but notice the overwhelming leads that point towards him. Thus, I conducted a search of his chambers and found this." Agravaine presents the root in his hand. "There had been a mandrake root within his chambers. An object of magic that your father had banned from the kingdom during his reign, thus meaning he has no reason to possess such an item. This alone should be enough to condemn him, but the fact that you were placed under an enchantment involving the very same plant cannot be a coincidence." Agravaine gives a triumphant smirk as he circles around Merlin, a wicked glint in his eyes. "This boy is the sorcerer, my lord. There can be no doubt about it."

Merlin's heart races in his chest, fingers trembling. He can hear the nobles begin to murmur amongst each other, shooting him disgusted looks as they discuss his case. "I have never seen that root before in my entire life!" he shouts, unsure of what else he can do to prove his innocence. Agravaine has him cornered. He looks up towards Arthur, eyes beseeching as he tries to convey the truth to the man. "I would never do anything to harm you, sire. I swear on my life, on my mother's life, that I would never lie to you."

The king remains silent, staring at the pleading boy in front of him with eyes filled with hurt. "Did you do it?" Arthur asks, voice hoarse, "If you swear you won't lie to me then answer me honestly, did you plant the root?"

Merlin is taking in rapid breaths now, trying to get air into his lungs as panic starts to overtake him. He can't bare the look in Arthur's eyes. The hurt, the pain, the betrayal. "No, of course not."

Arthur leans forward. "Then are you a sorcerer?" 

Merlin chokes on his words. All he has to do is say it. Say that he isn't a sorcerer. Maybe if he does, Arthur will forgive him, let him go, but he can't. He's already sworn to him that he wouldn't lie. "I-"

"All I want is a simple yes or no. Now let me ask again, are you a sorcerer?"

Merlin remains silent. He averts is gaze, staring down at the stone floor. He hears Arthur lean back into his chair. The king hangs his head down, looking as though he had just watched his father die all over again. His fists clench and unclench, showing the internal turmoil in his head.

"Sire," Agravaine speaks up beside Arthur, "You mustn't hesitate. You cannot show mercy," he turns to look down at Merlin with a smirk, "even to your best of friends. That will only be a sign of weakness. You must do what your father would have done."

Arthur takes in a shuttering breath. "If you cannot deny these claims then you leave me with no choice," Arthur says through clenched teeth. He rises to his feet, forcing Merlin to look up at him in his full height. The king's eyes look misty, glazed over and blank. There are no hints of sadness, frustration, anger, or hurt anywhere. They remain stoic as he looks down at the boy at his feet, no longer seeing a friend but simply another peasant. "You are found guilty for the crime of sorcery and witchcraft, and your punishment..." Arthur shuts his eyes, swallowing once before opening them again. "is to be burnt at the stake."

\------

Arthur turns away after the sentence is given. Everything around him seems to fade. He can hear Hunith breakdown somewhere beside him after the words leave his mouth. Her wails of grief tugging painfully at his heart. He risks a glance back, seeing Merlin being dragged away by his knights, silent and without any struggle as a few of the nobles scowl at him. He doesn't see any anger in his friend's eyes, no signs of hatred or malice. Merlin only glances to his mother, giving her a reassuring smile as he disappears out the door. 

Arthur leaves the room rather quickly afterwards, not stopping for anyone whether it be his uncle or his knights. He enters his room, slamming the door shut behind him and bolting it from the outside world. He yanks the crown off his head, throwing it at the wall in his chamber and the next thing he knows there's wine spilling down his throat. He downs cup after cup, drinking enough to rival even Gwaine.

The pitcher is almost empty before the goblet drops out of his hand, clattering noisily to the floor as he braces himself against the nearest wall. He takes in deep breaths, trying to calm himself down and allow the alcohol to take hold.  

He must still be ill. That's it, he must still be ill. He hasn't been cured yet. All this... everything that's happened has all been due to his diseased mind. That's what all this is, a hallucination. Nothing more. Soon, someone will shake him from these nightmares. Soon, he'll hear Merlin's voice again, hear him laugh, and see him smile. Merlin couldn't be a sorcerer. Only his mind could come up with a scenario like that. 

He presses his forehead against the wall then shuts his eyes and waits, and waits, and waits, but nothing changes. He's still alone in his room no matter how long he waits. He stifles a sob, keeping his eyes shut because he can't bear to see a world where Merlin isn't around.


	15. To Care for Another

Arthur doesn't move from his spot by the wall until he hears a knock at the door. Immediately, his eyes shoot open. The first thought that enters his mind at the noise is Merlin. Merlin is here. Merlin is outside. Everything is fine.

He dashes forward, almost slipping on the goblet in his rush toward the door. He unbolts it as quickly as he can, fingers fumbling over the wood as he pries the plank off the hooks. A loud thud sounds behind him as he tosses the timber to the floor, not bothering to set it in its proper place. Merlin will clean it up after all. 

He yanks the door open, ready to pull the boy inside and just embrace him, but his hopes are instantly dashed when he sees the men in red capes gathered out in the hall. They all gaze at him worriedly, giving him forced smiles as they wait to be let in. Arthur sighs, shoulders slumping and head hanging. He rubs at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the image of a smiling Merlin while he turns away. 

He's about to slam the door shut when a hand reaches out and jerks it back open. Arthur growls at the man, who he already knows is Gwaine without needing to even look, before trying to forcibly shove him from the room. The drunk, miraculously, manages to stand his ground. He glowers at the king, arms crossed as he stands in the doorway. 

Arthur scowls back while turning into his room. He grabs an empty goblet off the tabletop and fills the cup to the brim with wine once more. He's about to take a swig when Elyan gently pries the goblet from the his grip. The man tries for a smile, "That's enough for you. You're drinking more than Gwaine," he says.

Again, Arthur only scowls. He spins on his heel, heading towards his bed in hopes of being able to fall asleep and finally wake from this nightmare, but yet again, his knights stop him. Percival blocks his way while the others circle around him, not allowing him to avoid them any longer. Arthur growls at the group, trying to push past, but the circle holds firm. Begrudgingly and with one last glare the king stops struggling, deciding to listen. He has no other choice after all. 

"Sire," Lancelot begins, chewing on his lower lip with nervousness. He glances around at the others, seeming to search for some reassurance before continuing. "We feel that... you should, perhaps, reconsider Merlin's sentence." 

Arthur turns on his friend instantly. His eyes are almost red with anger as he stares at the man, making the normally fearless knight shrink in on himself. "What?" He growls. His fists clench at his sides, a movement none of the other knights miss.

Lancelot swallows, straightening his back and steeling his expression before continuing. "It has yet to be an hour since you delivered his sentence and you're already a mess." He bends down, picking up the spilled goblet to present to the king. "I've never seen you drink this much before, not even after your father died." Arthur flinches at the mention of his father, his demeanour faltering slightly. "We all could see how much Merlin meant to you. Can't you at least reduce the sentence?"

Arthur looks away. The vision of Merlin being tied to the stake flashes through his mind, making a cold shiver shoot down his back. "He committed treason. He tried to kill the king," Arthur replies, more to convince himself than the knights. 

"And he's assured you he didn't do it," Leon points out in the servants defence. "And a true man will stand by his words."

Arthur turns to face the blonde knight. "You expect me to take his word against evidence? You all heard my uncle. Merlin had the root in his chambers and besides... he's a sorcerer."

"Not just any sorcerer. He's Emrys," Gwaine corrects, "I'm sure you've pieced that together by now."

Arthur stiffens at the words, the impact of the revelation coming in full force now that the truth has been said aloud. He hadn't wanted to believe it at first when he made the connection. After all, how could he believe that Merlin, the innocent boy that adopts a dozen rabbits because 'those poor rabbits needed him', was Emrys? How could he believe that Merlin is the same man who has been prophesied to become Morgana's doom? He couldn't. He just couldn't fathom the idea. He had almost wanted to laugh in Agravaine's face when he first heard the accusations against his servant, but after seeing the guilt plastered on Merlin's face throughout the whole trial he wasn't sure what to think anymore. Thus, when the servant had pleaded his innocence, swearing on his mother's life he wouldn't lie, Arthur didn't hesitate to take the chance to find any form of truth in those words. Yet, all he found was more evidence supporting Agravaine's accusations and his own conclusion about Merlin. He had no reason anymore to doubt his uncle's words. No excuses to hide behind. Merlin is a sorcerer. Merlin is from Ealdor. Merlin is Emrys and he had just committed treason. Therefore, Emrys cannot be trusted. The rest of the trial was a blur in Arthur's mind. He could vaguely remember Agravaine speaking to him and the sentence being given, but anything more he couldn't remember. Not that he wanted to remember. 

Arthur nods slightly. "I know, and I have."

"Then why are you executing him!" Gwaine says loudly, voice rising in volume. "You said so yourself, he may be our one chance to kill Morgana and you're about to knowingly burn him at the stake!"

"What else do you suppose I do?" Arthur asks, furious now as well. "He committed treason! I can't excuse him and nobody else! He has shown me that he is a danger to this kingdom and because of that I-," Arthur stops, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "I cannot allow him to live."

Arthur casts his eyes down on the ground, the burst of anger draining as quickly as it had risen. The knights stand around him silently. Their heads all hanging down as well because they know that their king is right. Arthur sighs, turning away and pushing past the circle of his friends.

"I don't think Merlin could have done this," Lancelot says, looking back up. "He doesn't seem the type."

Arthur doesn't turn around. "Looks can be deceiving. Now please, leave."

The knights quietly begin to shuffle out of the room, filing out the door with their heads down. They're about to shut the door behind them when they hear Arthur ask, "Why do you care so much? Why are you all going through so much trouble for him?"

They all stop, turning back to face their king with a small smile on their faces. "He's our friend, of course we care about him. Don't you?" Lancelot answers with a grin before turning and heading out the room with the others. The door shuts behind them, leaving Arthur alone in his room with the question hanging heavily in the air.

He looks away from the door, turning to stare instead at the now unoccupied servant's chambers. He scowls before quickly shifting his gaze away. Of course he cares about Merlin. He cares about him a lot more than he should. 

\-----

Merlin lies curled on the floor of his cell. He has his knees tucked up to his body while his arms wrap around his chest, trying to keep himself as warm as he can on the cold ground. He's tempted to create a small fire in the straw, just enough to keep the coolness away, but the guards glaring at him through the bars change his mind quickly enough.

Merlin sighs, shuffling closer towards the wall to avoid the draft blowing down through the window above him. The guards had told him he had two days before his execution. Two days before he will die.

He quickly pushes the thought from his mind, choosing not to dwell on such matters. Instead he turns his attention to thoughts about his mother. He wonders what she's doing. Knowing her, she's most likely crying while trying her best to distract herself by cooking and cleaning around Gaius' chambers, but failing miserably. He guesses that Gaius must be comforting her, rubbing gentle circles around her back to calm her down while he hides his own grief behind a mask of neutrality. Will must be there as well, probably stoic and silent after having received the grim news from Gaius. 

Soon his mind drifts to the others around the castle he has come to love. First, there's Gwen, the sweet girl who had taught him the inner workings of the palace. He remembers seeing her cry during the trial, wiping at her eyes until they were red and puffy. Is she home with Lancelot right now? Clutching at his clothes as she weeps?

And what of the knights? They have all been so kind to him, accepting him as one of their own without any questions. He can't imagine the strong Percival with sadness in his eyes or the ever joyous Gwaine drinking away his sorrows. He doesn't want any of them to be in such a miserable state because of him. 

Then there's Arthur, the king who had stumbled into his quiet life one day and managed to become his dearest friend. He wonders now how Arthur felt once he heard the accusations laid against him. Is he crying right now? Feeling despair for having to sentence his friend to death? Does he miss him as much as he does? Or does he not care at all? Does nobody care?

Merlin's face drops at the thought, a needle stabbing his heart because why should they care? Other than his mother, Gaius, and Will they all believe he's a traitor. A killer who had attempted to commit regicide. He doesn't blame them for thinking in such a way. Agravaine had given a convincing argument that he couldn't defend himself against. So if Gwen chooses to sneer at him as he walks towards the pyre, or if the knights laugh as he moves closer and closer towards his death, or if Arthur is the one to hold the torch aloft as the stake is lit aflame he won't blame them. They will remain his friends in his heart and he will cherish the memories he's had with them for as long as he can. 

Merlin sniffles quietly, only realizing just now he had been crying. He wipes the tears from his eyes, hoping none of the guards outside had noticed. The needles embedded in his heart send a jolt of pain through his chest with each beat, making every passing moment more unbearable than the next. 

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours go by before the silent dungeon fills with the sound of footsteps. Merlin glances up from his spot on the ground, squinting through the bars to catch a glimpse of whoever is passing. He draws in a quick breath when he sees Agravaine stop in front of his cell. 

The first thing his magic wants to do when he sees the man's face is lash out. He can feel the power thrum under his skin, wanting to test out all the new spells he had learned from Gaius' books. He knows it must have been Agravaine that had set him up, that had planted the fake evidence. No one other than him had regarded him with such looks of hate since he arrived. He's not sure what he had done to deserve the man's anger. Did he offend him in some way? Whatever the reason is all Merlin can feel towards the man is rage. Rage for tearing apart his life.

Agravaine seems to notice the spark of anger in the boy's eyes because a smirk appears on his face at the sight of it. He stalks closer, waving a hand to dismiss the guards before moving towards the bars with the same triumphant grin he carried throughout the trial like a cat cornering a mouse. "Good evening, Merlin. How has your stay been in Camelot's dungeons?" He asks.

Merlin looks away, scoffing at him and turning so his back faces the man. Hopefully if he ignored him enough Agravaine would leave him alone. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort happens. The noble only laughs, finding the whole situation amusing. "Not so high and mighty now, are you Emrys?" Agravaine says, voice mocking.

Merlin shoots his head up immediately, forgetting entirely about his earlier plan of ignoring the man. His eyes are wide and confused as he regards the king's uncle, wondering whether he's joking with him or being serious. Merlin gets to his feet, moving a few steps closer to the bars so he's away from the wall. "What did you say?" 

Agravaine seems to find the situation even more amusing now. He tilts his head back, a wave of laughter tearing through the silence. Merlin can only stare in disbelief before the man calms down long enough to continue. "You don't know?" He laughs again, "And to think the Lady Morgana feared you, a pathetic farming boy. Well I guess I'll simply have to let her know she no longer has anything to fear."

Merlin shudders at the mention of the woman's name. He remembers the fire, the homes lighting up across the clearing. The smell of burnt wood and smoke all around him. He clenches his teeth, a look of anguish crossing his expression at the memories. "You're the traitor," he says, voice barely above a whisper. 

Agravaine smirks, leaning in closer towards the bars of the cell. "I wouldn't call myself a traitor. After all, I'm simply serving the rightful heir to the throne."

"Don't you care about Camelot? About the people? About Arthur?" Merlin demands, gripping the bars of the cell.

Agravaine stands up straighter, arms behind his back as he stares down at the boy. "Of course I care. And that is why I'm bringing the kingdom and its people their rightful ruler. As for Arthur," A scowl turns up on his lips at the mention of the name. "he won't be much of a problem soon now will he?" Merlin's eyes widen in terror at the implications in Agravaine's words, leaving him speechless as the man laughs. The noble turns away, heading down the hall.

Merlin backs up towards the wall of the cell, slumping against it with eyes wide and body trembling, everything crashing down on him at once. He is Emrys. The man Arthur has been searching for and, according to what Arthur has told him, the king's protector. If Agravaine means to kill the king then he can't allow that to happen. Not only because some strange prophecy Arthur had gotten said he must, but because Arthur is someone he cares about. No matter how much the king must hate him now he can't allow Arthur to be hurt. He cares too much for him. 

With his mind made up Merlin holds out his hand and his eyes shine a bright gold. 


	16. Judgement Day

The king gazes out the window in his chambers, staring down at the courtyard below. He can still see the images of Merlin tied to the stake, his uncle lightning the torch and tossing it towards the pyre. He hears the screams every night. The shouts and cries of anguish as the flames lick the sides of the boy's body haunt him as the day of the execution looms ever closer. 

He tears his gaze from the window. He doubts he'll be able to watch Merlin's execution. Not again. Not a second time. He wonders if he can get away with sending Agravaine in his stead, feign some sort of illness perhaps. He could ask Gaius for help, that's if the old man even wants to speak to him ever again. 

He turns to face back towards the window, sighing at the sight of the somber mood outside. The moon and stars are obscured by the clouds tonight, leaving hardly any light to fall down upon the Earth. He would even say a storm seemed to be brewing given the grey clouds overhead. He hopes it'll rain on the day of Merlin's execution. At least then he would have a little longer to live. 

He quickly draws the curtains shut at the thought in his mind. Merlin has committed treason, whatever happens is no longer his concern. The boy is a sorcerer and does not deserve his pity. 

Arthur raises a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose in hopes of forgetting about the boy before he heads to sleep, but Merlin seems to always manage to sneak his way into his mind somehow. Whether it be the servant's smile or his betrayal the king can never seem to rid the idiot from his thoughts. 

The king drops down onto his bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes before curling up in the sheets. He stares at the empty chair beside him, the seat Merlin hadn't bothered to put away after he stayed for the night. He can almost imagine his servant still sitting there, grinning at him lazily with his arms crossed underneath his head with a sleepy expression. 

If he's honest with himself, he misses Merlin. He want's to see him, to talk to him, and, dare he think it, hold him. He's tempted to head down into the dungeons right now, in the middle of the night, just to catch a glimpse of the boy because he knows that this will probably be his last chance. Maybe he'll even say a few words to him, tell him that he wished things had been different. That they had met under different circumstances. Perhaps then... they could have had something more. 

Arthur shoves his face down into the pillows, trying to bury the thoughts in his head. Merlin had betrayed him. He does not deserve any of his sympathy nor any of his love, and yet the 'what ifs' keep coming. What if Merlin hadn't been the one to plant the root? What if it was someone else? But what if he was? What if he really did plan on killing him? What if he's planning it now at this very moment?

Arthur pulls the edges of the pillow up over his ears. He wants the stupid argument in his head to stop. He wants the thoughts of Merlin to leave him alone. It's too late anyways. What's done is done. He has already made his choices. Whether they were right or wrong he'll only know when the time comes.

"...Arthur?"

The king clutches the pillow tighter around his head. Perfect. Now he's hearing things again. Why can't the world leave him alone, just for one night?

"Arthur, please... open the door."

Arthur turns over in his bed, trying to block out the voice as best he can. 

A knock, one quiet and hesitant, echoes around the silent room. "Arthur? Please, I only need a moment."

The king remains quiet, trying to concentrate on his breathing as the voice in the hall continues to beg. Merlin isn't really there. It's all in his head...

First there's a click, then a creak from the hinges as the door is pushed open. There's a step followed by another as Merlin enters the room, letting the light from the hall stream inside. Arthur can see the servant's shadow on the wall, the edges distorting as the torches in the corridor flicker from the breeze. The door shuts, but remains unlocked. A sign that Arthur can leave at any moment he wished or shout for the guards if he so desires.

Merlin stops in the centre of his chamber, staying far from the king's bed. "I'm sorry for barging in," he mutters, "but this is urgent."

Finally, Arthur turns, not able to withhold himself any longer. He can hardly believe his eyes at first. Merlin is standing in front of him, looking the same as he always did save for the lack of happiness in his eyes. Instead, they look sad, tired. Like the whole world has collapsed atop his shoulders and he's been forced to bear the weight alone. 

Arthur sits up, face still expressionless. He doesn't know what to make of the situation. He doesn't even know if the boy standing before him is real or simply a figment of his imagination, a sign of his own guilt. Nevertheless Arthur wants to reach out, he wants to touch the servant, to convince himself that he is real. That he is here. But before he's even able to make a move Merlin approaches. He stops in front of Arthur, a wistful smile forming on his lips as he gazes at the king.

"Arthur, I-" he chokes on his words, unable to say what he wants. He looks down at the floor, taking a step back, looking ready to take off and never return.

At that thought Arthur jumps to his feet, grabbing onto Merlin's wrist to keep him from moving any further away. Merlin seems surprised at the action, stopping instantly to regard the king with hopeful eyes. Arthur holds on for a moment, not wanting to let go. Merlin is here. He's really here. He missed their contact. Missed having the boy so close to him. Eventually though, he does let go, allowing his hand to drop back down beside him limp and aching for contact yet again. 

Merlin still betrayed him, he keeps reminding himself, and that means he can't be trusted. "How did you get here?" He asks, keeping his voice cold.

Merlin flinches back at the tone, but seems to stand his ground. "I escaped from the dungeons."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Of course I know that," he snaps, "but how?"

Merlin bites on his lower lip. "Magic."

The word is finally said, put out plainly and for the world to hear. Arthur has to force his hand back from grabbing his sword that leans by the nightstand. He takes in a few calming breaths, hoping to quell the fire burning within him. "So it's true. You have magic."

Merlin nods, but there's no shame on his face. No guilt for practising the forbidden art. 

Arthur's anger rises with each passing moment, with each second that Merlin continues to stare at him with no hint of remorse for his actions. "Then is it true that you're Emrys as well?" he asks.

"That isn't important. I-"

"Not important?" Arthur glares at the boy, taking a step closer. "I think this is rather quite important actually."

Merlin looks frustrated now. A frown set upon his face. "Please, we can talk about this later. I promise, but right now I-"

"I think we can talk about this right now, Merlin," Arthur snaps, eyes turning fierce. "I suggest you don't test my patience."

Merlin's expression seems to become a mixture of all sorts of emotions. Arthur can see anger, frustration, panic, hurt, and sadness all at once. The king almost wants to apologize for causing the boy such anguish. Almost.

"And I suggest you don't test mine either," Merlin says, voice low as he takes a step closer. 

A shiver travels down Arthur's spine at the words. He can feel the raw energy radiating off the boy. The power that lies beneath the layer of kindness he has grown to love. At this moment, he can believe the druid's words. He can believe that the boy standing before him can surpass Morgana. Even he wants to hide from the servant, afraid of his power, but Arthur is king and king's don't cower in fear of their servants. So, he keeps his gaze locked on Merlin's, not willing to be fazed by his threats. "That's another act of treason you know, threatening your king," Arthur growls low in his throat. 

"I'm not the one committing treason!" Merlin yells, sounding panicked. "Agravaine is the traitor! He's been the one working with Morgana! I am trying to save your life," he says, a little calmer now than before, softer, the anger having faded slightly, "but you keep refusing to listen to what I have to tell you."

Arthur scoffs, sneering at the boy before him. "And why should I listen to you? You're nothing but a sorcerer."

A loud crack catches Arthur's attention. He turns to look at the mirror in the corner of his chamber. He watches the fracture begin to spread across the glass, clawing it's way to every corner until the image of himself has turned distorted.

He looks back at Merlin with wide eyes, seeing the way that the servant is breathing heavily, eyes fading from gold to blue. He can see Merlin's shoulders shaking, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. 

Arthur's eyes narrow. The words of his father from long ago begin to circulate in his head, filling every crevice until all he can think of is what his father had taught him. All sorcerers are twisted liars, his father had said. They are all evil, only using their magic to harm others. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have fallen for the druids sweet words about destiny? How could he have thought Merlin would be any different? 

This time, Arthur does grab his sword.

\-----

Merlin stares at the blade pointed towards him, at the weapon hovering only a mere inch above his undefended chest, and anger immediately takes over his mind. He reaches a hand out, easily throwing the sword from Arthur's grasp without so much as an incantation. He can see the surprise cross the king's face at the action, can see Arthur's eyes narrowing as he readies himself for battle, but Merlin doesn't allow him to get that far. 

With a quick flick of his wrist Arthur is pushed up against the wall, held to the stone by an invisible force. He hears the king growl at him, ready to yell for the guards only to be stopped by Merlin pushing a hand over his mouth. 

The servant takes a step closer, leaning in until he's face to face with his king. "Is that all I am to you now? When you look at me is all you see another lying sorcerer?" he demands, voice growing desperate, pained. "I understand if you don't trust me for I have done nothing to deserve it, but all I ask is that you do not base your judgement on what you have heard about sorcerers or about Emrys. I want you to judge me as you know me. Judge me as Merlin. After all," he takes a step back, moving his hand off the king's mouth and letting the spell loosen its hold on his friend. He smiles at him, warm and comforting but a little sad. "I'm sure you understand how it feels to be judged only by your title and lineage."

Arthur drops his gaze to the floor, face hidden by the shadows. The energy seems to have drained from his body. His shoulders are slumped, his arms limp at his sides. He doesn't make a move to attack the boy either. He simply remains still, silent and unmoving.

Merlin gives the king a small smile before taking a step forward. He leans in close, his heart hammering in his chest as he plants a gentle kiss to Arthur's forehead. He isn't sure why he does it. Perhaps it's because he knows that this might be the last time he'll ever see his king. Perhaps its something else entirely. Whatever the case may be, he doesn't regret it. Not one bit. 

He pulls away shortly after, hovering only a small distance in front of the king. Again, he smiles, showing off his usual blinding grin. "I love you, Arthur, and I'll continue to love you, no matter what you decide to do." 

With that he lets go, moving back a step while feeling embarrassed and flustered at his actions. He catches Arthur staring at him, eyes trained on his lips. The warlock blushes even further, covering his mouth with his hands as he rushes towards the door. He reaches for the handle, but stops, turning back around to face the king who continues to stare at his servant. "I'll be in Gaius' chambers. If you want to arrest me then send your guards. I have done what I came to do and I won't stop you." 

He pulls open the door, heading out into the hall and down towards the physicians chambers.

\-----

The door clicks shut behind the servant, leaving the king standing alone once again in his chambers. Arthur continues to stare at the closed door, feeling more lost than he had after his coronation. 

He lifts a hand up to his forehead, touching the spot Merlin had kissed. He feels himself blush at the memory, at the sensation he felt as the boy's soft lips pressed against his skin, as the boy had confessed his love. He silently wishes that Merlin had aimed just a bit lower. 

Quickly, he smothers the thoughts down. This is not the time for such things. His emotions come second, what should come first is the question about Merlin. 

He moves towards the window, pulling aside the curtain and seeing the silhouette of the servant scurry across the courtyard while heading towards Gaius' chambers. He watches the servant duck behind a few barrels when guards approach, watches the way he waits for them to pass before continuing on. A part of his brain points the fact out to him, trying to persuade him that Merlin means no harm. That if he were really some evil sorcerer he would have just killed them.

Arthur turns away from the window, replaying Merlin's words over and over again in his head. Judge him as he knows him. Put aside his own thoughts towards sorcerers and focus solely on Merlin and Merlin's actions.

The king heads out the door of his chambers and starts to make his way down to the dungeons. He stops once he reaches the entrance, finding the two guards slouched and snoring on the floor. He turns them over, examining the men for any signs of injury and sure enough there's nothing wrong with them. They're alive and healthy without so much as a scratch.

Arthur stands, prodding at the sides of the guard gently with a foot to wake them. They look up with a snort, eyes widening in shock once they see the king towering above them. They scramble to their feet, giving a shaky bow as they apologize. Arthur only sighs, waving them away back to their posts as he heads up the stairs.

As he makes his way towards his chambers he thinks of all the time they have spent together. He thinks of when they first met underneath the crevice. How all the idiot seemed to care about were his stupid mushrooms. He remembers how Merlin had taken him to his home, patched him up regardless of the fact that he was the king of Camelot and would rather see him killed. He thinks of the boy's reaction when he had hurt Morgana, remembers the utter fear in his eyes when he believed that he had killed her. That was something one could not fake. Arthur would know, he had gone through the same thing and knew the feeling well.

Then again, what about just a few moments ago? Had Merlin not used his magic against him? A tiny part of his brain wants to say that yes, Merlin had and therefore is evil, but had he himself not been the first to draw his weapon? Had he not been the one to threaten the boy first? To provoke him? Merlin had used his magic, yes, but only out of self defence and again, Merlin had been careful. Even when he had been forced against the wall, the impact was soft. Nothing damaging. 

But what of the root? Agravaine had given evidence that proves Merlin is a traitor. Should that not be enough to warrant an arrest? Yet, after what Merlin had said about Agravaine, the king isn't too sure whether he's able to completely trust his uncle's claims. If what Merlin said is true and Agravaine is the one working with Morgana then who's to say Merlin was even the one who committed the crime? It could have just as easily been Agravaine himself. 

Arthur sighs, pulling open the door to his chambers. He slumps down on the bed, sifting through all the information he has to try and come to a decision which he knows may change everything.


	17. The Right Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry for the late chapter! I'm currently writing my final exams so there probably won't be another update until at least the end of the month.
> 
> I'm sorry everyone and I thank you for your patience! Anyways I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

Merlin raises a hand, knocking tentatively on the door to the physician's chambers and waits. He first hears quiet shuffling on the other side, then footsteps as someone approaches. There's a soft click when the door is unlocked and the hinges squeak in protest as the door is forced open. 

Merlin almost wants to tackle the old man into a hug when he sees him through the open door. He smiles at him brightly, plastering on his widest grin as the physician recognizes the boy at his door. Gaius smiles back, his expression turning from somber to joyful in a matter of seconds. "Merlin, my boy!" he exclaims happily, hobbling over to give the warlock a hug.

Merlin returns the gesture whole heartedly, not realizing how much he missed his mentor. He gives the old man a comforting pat on the back before pulling away, smiling even more widely than before. Gaius quickly stands aside for him to enter, ushering him in and shutting the door. 

The next person he sees is Will. His friend in standing in the centre of the room, mouth agape as he stares. Merlin grins at him as well, walking forward to clasp a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Thought you would never see me again?" he says, chuckling.

Will's face breaks into a smile, and if Merlin didn't know any better, he would swear he could see tears in his friend's eyes. "And was glad too. Thought you were finally out of my hair," he says, trying to sound tougher than he really was. 

They both laugh, pulling the other in for an embrace. They only let go when the door to the small room upstairs opens. Merlin hears a small gasp before the sound of rushing footsteps. Will is shoved out of the way as his mother barrels towards him. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him in so tightly that he has to bend down in fear of being choked to death. 

"Oh Merlin," he hears his mother say as she buries her face in his neck. "Merlin..." She gives a soft sob as tears pool from her eyes, staining his neckerchief while he rocks her gently. 

"I'm alright, mother. I'm alright," he says in reassurance, rubbing gentle circles along her back.

His mother pulls away soon after, rubbing at her eyes with the palm of her hand. "Did-did you manage to clear your name?" she asks hopefully, eyes alight.

Merlin looks away. He stares off into the distance, trying to choose his words carefully. How can he put this as lightly as possible? "I... um..." he begins, scratching at the back of his head. He glances at the faces around the room, seeing the hope in their eyes. He hates that he has to crush them. "I-uh, no. I didn't clear it."

He sees everyone's shoulders slump, the smiles turning into frowns as they listen to his words. Their expressions deflate, their moment of elation gone like the wind. "Then why have you come here?" his mother asks, holding onto his sleeve desperately.

"I wanted to say goodbye..." he says quietly. 

"You mustn't put yourself in needless danger. You could have been killed or worse," Gaius chides. 

Merlin shrugs. "It's not like it would have mattered. I'm being sentenced to death. It would have happened one way or another."

They all fall silent, looking down at the floor as the words sink in.

"We can help you escape," Will says, a spark of hope lighting up again in his eyes. "We could smuggle you out. Run away back to Cenred's kingdom."

Merlin shakes his head, brushing away his mother's hand and taking a step back. "I'm not leaving."

Will stares at him dumbfounded. "Are you insane?" He throws his arms up in the air. "You mean to stay here and allow that man," he points up in the general direction of the royal chambers, "to find you and kill you?"

Merlin looks away. "I have my own reasons to stay."

Will grabs him by the neckerchief, pulling him until they're face to face. "It's because of him isn't it? You still don't want to leave your little noble friend."

Merlin glares at Will, pulling the other's hand off of him but refuses to answer.

"Look what he's done to you! As I said, those nobles are nothing but trouble. You can't trust 'em."

Merlin tears his eyes away, heading towards the pitcher full of water and pouring himself a cupful. He continues to ignore his friend.

"What? Are you just gonna sit here and-and let him drag you back?" Will says, voice cracking. "I told you, he is not your friend. He doesn't care about you. Not like the rest of us do. Forget about him. He's just another noble. There is no need for you to stay and suffer because of him."

Merlin sets the cup down after draining its contents. He wipes the remainder off his lips with his sleeve before turning back to face Will. "He's my friend. I've betrayed his trust once. I'm not doing it again."

Will scoffs. "If he were a true friend he would not sentence you to death."

Again, Merlin remains silent.

Will storms out of the room from the lack of a response, a permanent sneer set into his face. He slams the door shut behind him, making Merlin flinch slightly in his spot. He turns towards his mother, seeing the sorrowful look in her eyes as she watches him. He reaches a hand out, gently stroking the side of her cheek. "I'm sorry, mother," he says, "but I've made my decision."

His mother sighs, leaning into his touch. She lifts up a hand, cupping hers over his own. "You really care about him... don't you?"

Merlin nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, I really do."

\----

The sun has just barely peeked over the horizon when Arthur wakes to the sound of the warning bell. He opens one eye, not bothering to rush as he already knows the reason the alarm was risen.

He gets to his feet, pulling aside the curtain to find guards streaming past the castle windows across the courtyard as they search the palace for the escaped prisoner. He heads towards his wardrobe, changing quickly into his armour as best he can without anyone's help. 

A knock sounds at his door just as he's about to finish. "Enter," he calls as he pulls on his glove. 

Leon enters the room, seeming to have been woken by the bell as well judging by the state of his hair, looking breathless. "Merlin has escaped, sire," he says, though he doesn't sound quite as urgent as he should be after hearing news of a sorcerer escaping.

"I know," Arthur replies simply, pulling on his other glove.

Leon raises an eyebrow at him, probably confused at the king's reluctance to take action, though he's not one to complain. "What are your orders, my lord?"

Arthur looks up, waving his hand at the knight. "Send the guards to search the forest and lower town."

Again, Leon stares at the king skeptically. "What about the citadel?"

"Leave it. I'm sure he's made a run for it already. There's no point in searching here."

Leon stares at the king suspiciously for a moment before a knowing smile crosses his face. "Of course, sire. I'll be sure to inform the guards."

The knight gives a quick bow before leaving the room, seeming more relaxed than when he entered. 

After he finishes putting on the rest of his armour Arthur heads to the door as well, ready to find Merlin when a new thought strikes him. He stops just short of the door and pulls his sword from his belt. He sets it down on the table before turning back around to leave the room. He won't make the same mistake twice.

\-----

The halls feel oddly silent as Arthur makes his way through the citadel, his footsteps being the only sound echoing down the corridor. The castle is dimly lit, the torches having mostly burned out during the night. On any normal day the sun would have been up in the sky already, shedding enough light through the windows to illuminate the halls, but today is different. Today, the clouds barricade the sun's brilliance. Hiding it within the shadows of a false night. 

His steps slow once he reaches the all too familiar hall. His heart starts to race as he moves closer and closer towards the physician's chambers. He's beginning to dread the moment he reaches the door. Dread the moment he will have to come face to face with everything. He knows his choice will matter. He knows he must make the correct judgement for the very fate of the kingdom may rest on this one choice. All he hopes is that he will make the correct one.

Arthur takes in a deep breath before reaching for the handle. He pushes the door open slowly, quietly. He takes a step in and stops by the door when he sees the scene before him. 

Merlin is seated at the dining table, eyes glowing a bright gold as he weaves images from the steam coming off the pot of stew. First, he makes a dragon, one that soars around the room before stopping to perch by the bread. It stands atop the mound, beaming proudly as it gazes around the room. Then, with a quick wave of the servant's hand and another string of words a little knight appears from the steam. It drops down into the soup, desperately swimming towards the edge of the bowl to grab hold. It hoists itself up, looking up proudly at Hunith who gives a small giggle at the spectacle. Just as the little knight is about to make the trek up the bread and towards the dragon both disappear in a puff. 

Hunith tilts her head in confusion, smile dropping as she glances up at Merlin only to find his eyes trained elsewhere. She follows his gaze, letting out a loud gasp as she sees the king at the door. By then Gaius has turned as well, watching the royal with a calculating gaze as he shuts the book he was reading.

Gaius is the first to say anything, "Sire, may I help you?"

Arthur takes another step into the room, noticing the way Hunith tenses at the movement. Merlin, on the other hand, remains still. His expression revealing nothing. "I-" the king stutters, "I was hoping to speak with Merlin. Alone."

Gaius shoots a quick glance towards the boy. He raises an eyebrow at him, seeming to ask a silent question towards the mother and son. Hunith shakes her head vigorously, clearly not wanting to leave her child alone with a man that most likely wishes to kill him. Merlin though, gives a nod. He smiles down at his mother, whispering a few words of reassurance. Hunith remains tense, but reluctantly gives in with a sigh.

She gets to her feet, Gaius following suit, and heads towards the door. She shoots a stern glance towards Arthur as she passes him, sending a death threat that he doesn't doubt she'll follow through with. 

The door shuts behind the two with a click, leaving Arthur alone with Merlin once again. He glances towards the boy now, trying to determine how to approach the situation at hand. What does he say first? Should he start off light? Asking him about his day or get straight to the point?

Before he can come to a decision, Merlin gets up from the bench he's been sitting on. He stands by the table, hands behind his back as he chews on his lower lip. He's staring down at the floor, eyes refusing to meet that of the king's. "I didn't think you would come," he says quietly, voice barely above a whisper. 

Arthur can hardly describe how much the words sting. Merlin didn't have any faith in him. Merlin believed he didn't care. "You thought I would send the guards? Tell them to come and arrest you?" He says, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.

Merlin gives a quiet chuckle though it sounds half-hearted. "You were angry and I did attack you last night. I figured you would want me dead after that."

Arthur shakes his head, taking a few steps closer. "No, you had the right to. I-" he swallows the lump in his throat, "I tried to kill you and I'm sorry." He hangs his head in shame. He doesn't even want to fathom the idea. Doesn't want to imagine Merlin's blood dripping from his blade. Doesn't want to imagine his body on the floor of his chambers, silent and lifeless. 

Merlin takes a step back, an action that Arthur doesn't fail to notice, before looking up, a small smile on his lips. "You don't need to-"

"Of course I do!" Again, Arthur moves closer, now almost leaning into Merlin's personal space. The servant tries to back away, only to be stopped by his back hitting the edge of the table. Arthur has his hands braced on the wood, one on either side of the boy. He presses his forehead against the warlock's before beginning again softly, "You have done so much for me. You saved my life more times than many of my own knights. You fought against Morgana. You saved me from freezing to death in the woods. You-" he stops to take in a deep breath, "you love me for me." He backs away, moving now to pace the room. "And what have I done for you? I betrayed your trust. I hurt you and I pushed you away." Arthur sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I don't deserve your kindness, your forgiveness. I don't deserve your love."

Arthur lets out a breath and turns, getting ready to leave. "I'll give you a pardon. As much as I would like for you to stay it's not safe for you here. I'll send-" Before he's able to finish he feels a warm body press up against his back. Arms encircle his waist, tugging him closer as he feels the servant's chin rest against his shoulder.

"If I felt that you didn't deserve forgiveness then I wouldn't have waited for you. I would have left with my mother and Will the minute I escaped. I wouldn't have gone to warn you about Agravaine." Merlin mutters, breath brushing against Arthur's ears.

"But-"

"Arthur," the warlock squeezes tighter. "I already told you before, I love you and I'm not about to leave your side. Not unless you want me too."

Arthur opens his mouth, ready to tell him that he wants him to leave. That he wants Merlin to go somewhere safe where no one, not even Morgana, can hurt him, but he stops himself. He stops because he knows Merlin will be able to see through the lie. The facade. Of course he doesn't want Merlin to leave. He wants him to stay here, by his side, forever. He's been a noble all his life and he can't help if he's a little selfish. 

So, instead he smiles. He rests his own hand overtop of Merlin's, turning his head slightly until he's able to see the boy's face beside his. "Stubborn as always, aren't you?"

Merlin puts on a pout, but Arthur can tell through his eyes that the boy is much happier than before. "And you're a prat as always," he says, burying his head into the crook of Arthur's neck with a grin.

The king chuckles before untangling himself from the boy's grasp. He hears Merlin give a disappointed whimper at the action, but it's soon forgotten when Arthur spins around, wrapping his own arms around the warlock's waist. The king gives a smirk, pulling the boy closer as he leans in. "I can still change my mind," he says, teasing.

Merlin chuckles, wrapping his own arms around Arthur's waist once again before leaning in as well until their breaths mingled in the air between them. "It's not my fault if you're a prat," he replies, the usual cheek back in his voice.

Arthur can feel the edges of his lips tug into a wide smile at the retort. He admits that he has missed this. He's missed their playful bantering, their shared insults, and their gentle teasing. He's missed seeing Merlin's wide grins and hearing his boisterous laughs. He's missed having him so close. 

Merlin smiles at him again, eyes alight now with more life than he has ever seen since he met the boy. The king's heart skips a beat as the buried thoughts in his head begin to climb up to the surface. He can hear it whisper sweet nothings into his ear, pushing him forward, telling him that it's either now or never. 

He keeps his eyes locked on the servant's, simply basking in the beauty of the man in front of him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to lean in. He's a little hesitant at first, unsure how the warlock will react, but the slight squeeze of Merlin's hand on his waist gives him all the confirmation he needs. So, he closes his eyes and presses his lips onto Merlin's and he can honestly say that is the best decision he's made all his life. 

 


	18. A Dangerous Gamble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry guys for the delayed chapter! I promise the next one should be out soon since I have written over half of it already. 
> 
> I thank you all for your patience!!

A pleasant spark shoots down his spine when he feels Arthur's lips press against his. Merlin leans into the kiss with fervour, his grip tightening around the king's waist as though the moment would end if he lets go. He can feel Arthur return the gesture, his arms pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into the warlock's mouth. Merlin moans in pleasure at the action, feeling his magic tingle underneath his skin, bursting through the seams with excitement as it responds to his elation. 

They part a few moments later, a little breathless and with much too wide grins on their faces. Neither seem to want to let go, both keeping their arms wrapped around the other as they simply stare once more. Arthur though, is the first to break his gaze, his eyes seeming to have been caught by something behind the servant's head. 

Merlin raises an eyebrow, turning his head to follow Arthur's stare and immediately flushes red with embarrassment. Pots, vials, and books all dance through the air, performing little twirls and flips as they float around the physician's chambers. 

The king chuckles as he watches one of Gaius' tomes sail past his head, the book flapping its leather bound cover as though it were a set of wings. Arthur lifts a hand up to poke at one of the floating vials, laughing with amusement as it snuggles up to him. 

Merlin gapes at the flying objects, feeling embarrassed at having his magic react in such a way to his emotions. He should be able to control his magic by now, especially after years of Gaius' tutelage. He racks his brain to remember the correct spell to stop the floating objects. He mutters a mad jumble of words until finally something works. The jars and potions drop from the air suddenly, the life sucked out of them in an instant and Merlin swears he can hear Arthur give a small sigh of disappointment. The warlock, on the other hand, lets out a breath of relief before turning back to Arthur, a tinge of red still on his cheeks. "I guess I got a little too excited," he says quietly.

Arthur laughs, running a hand through the servant's hair soothingly. "I suppose that's something you'll have to learn to control if you're planning on staying. My chambers are already messy enough as is because of a certain incompetent servant that consistently neglects his duties."

Merlin smiles, the redness disappearing from his cheeks as they return to their familiar routine. "And who decided to lock said incompetent servant down in the dungeons so he couldn't perform his duties?"

Arthur snickers, "A proper servant would have shown up to work anyways. I never officially sacked you after all."

Merlin's about to give another retort when a knock echoes around the room. "Sire?" A voice calls from the other side, "Are you there?"

Merlin tenses immediately once he hears the voice of the man on the other side. He would recognize that voice anywhere. After all, it has managed to haunt his nightmares for quiet awhile now. He shoots a quick glance towards Arthur who looks equally as panicked, the relaxed expression from earlier having melted away instantly. The king gestures towards the small room behind them, a sense of urgency in his eyes as he shoves Merlin towards the stairs.   

The warlock doesn't complain as he moves quietly up the few steps, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. He presses his ear against the wood once he's inside, trying to listen in as best he can from across the room. 

"Ah, uncle," he hears Arthur say, feigning surprise, "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Nor did I, my lord," there's a moment of silence, "Is there no one else? I thought I heard you talking with someone."

Arthur gives a soft chuckle. "I believe you are mistaken, uncle. There was no one else here."

"I see. Must have been my imagination," Agravaine replies with a laugh, "Though might I ask why you're here? I thought you would be out searching for the sorcerer with your knights." There's a hint of disgust in the man's voice as he mentions the escaped prisoner. 

"I'm sure they could handle it, after all Camelot's knights are the finest. No sorcerer shall best them. Besides, I was needed here in the castle. I cannot waste my time over one pathetic sorcerer," Arthur replies, nonchalant. Merlin can't help the small sting in his chest at being called a 'pathetic sorcerer' but he knows Arthur doesn't mean it. 

"But why are you here, sire? I don't see any work you would need to do here."

"Only came to ask Gaius a few questions, though he seems to be out so I decided to wait."

Agravaine takes a few moments to answer. "Ah, then would you like me to call for him, my lord?"

"Yes, that would be much appreciated."

"Then I shall be on my way."

With those last words Merlin hears retreating steps and the door closing. He allows a few minutes to pass before letting out a breath of relief. He slowly opens the door, peeking his head out slightly. Arthur catches sight of him and smiles, gesturing to him that Agravaine is gone. 

Merlin exits the room, coming down the steps slowly while sneaking cautious glances towards the door. "Do you think he knows I was here?" he asks.

Arthur shakes his head, "I'm not sure. But, Merlin, you never did explain to me why you believe Agravaine to be a traitor."

Merlin shrugs, "He was gloating over his victory over 'Emrys'. He let a few things slip that he probably shouldn't have said."

Arthur nods, still seeming skeptical, but willing to at least entertain the idea. Merlin doesn't blame him, there is no evidence. It's simply his word against Agravaine's. Honestly, he's surprised Arthur hasn't called him a liar yet. He's seen how much the man trusts his uncle and wouldn't be angered to hear that the king didn't believe him. 

"As much as I trust you I can't be certain this is true unless I see evidence. And I mean solid evidence, nothing like the assumptions that my uncle made. I don't want a repeat of that again..." he trails off, not needing to mention what 'that' was. 

Merlin smiles, "I have an idea."

\-----

Arthur stands atop the balcony later that day, his arms behind his back as he looks down over the crowd that has begun to gather in the courtyard. His uncle stands a short ways behind him, a smug smile that he doesn't realize the king sees on his face.

The pyre is built up high in the centre of the square, acting as a warning to all those who wish to oppose the king of Camelot that no action will be left unpunished. The people mutter amongst themselves uneasily as they flow through the gates to witness the event, wondering who had the audacity to challenge their brave leader. 

The low murmurs from the audience fade away at the thudding of the drums. The foreboding sound echoes across the walls surrounding the citadel, sending a shiver down the spines of all those gathered. Heads turn as the prisoner is marched through the doors, flanked by two of Camelot's finest. The boy has his head hanging low, wrists tied with rope in front of him as he's led towards the pyre. 

Arthur swallows, leaning against the railing and clenching his fists. He has to surpress the trembles that run through his body at the sight of the familiar mop of ebony hair, the pale skin, and blue eyes on the servant below. He wants to look away, to turn around and hide in his chambers till it was all over, but he knows he has to be here, watching it all till the very end. 

As the boy ascends the last few steps up to the pyre he looks towards the king. The usually bright, blue eyes are dim, the light having been snuffed out by none other than the royal himself. Arthur feels his chest tighten, feels how his fists clench tighter and if it weren't for his gloves he's sure his uncle would see the paleness of his knuckles. 

The torch is lit after the warlock is strapped on to the stake. His eyes are cast downwards, staring into the flames that hover close to the pyre, much too close.

Arthur clears his throat, "This man, Merlin, has been practising magic and..." he pauses for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath before continuing, "has been found to be a traitor to Camelot." A collective gasp ripples over the crowd. Taunts are spit out at the warlock tied to the stake. Jeers and shouts of anger can be heard throughout the city as the citizens of Camelot unleash their anger for how dare this man attempt to threaten their homes?

The cries cease as the king holds up his hand. The crowd growing silent almost immediately, allowing their leader to continue. "I, Arthur Pendragon, have hereby sentenced this man to death for his crimes against this kingdom. It is thanks to my uncle, Lord Agravaine, that this man was apprehended before any harm could have been done and for that he receives my most humblest of thanks."

Agravaine smiles behind him, giving a slight bow. "I only wish for the best of the kingdom, my lord. I'm sure any citizen would have done the same."

Arthur gives the man a forced smile before turning back to face the courtyard. He lifts up a hand, signalling to the guard standing by the pyre to ready the flame. Again, the king hesitates as he stares down at the boy bound to the stake who shakes and trembles in place. Merlin seems to be staring up at him, fear in his eyes as his gaze flits back and forth between the king and the torch, silently begging him to not go through with the execution. 

Arthur tears his eyes away from his servant, choosing instead to scan the crowd. He finds the faces of his friends, Leon, Gwen, and Elyan to name a few, standing beside each other with faces stricken in horror at the scene before them. Gwen seems to be on the verge of tears as she gazes at Merlin from a distance, clinging onto Elyan's arm while the man whispers soothing words to her. Then there's Leon, whose back is straight and face is set in a regal expression, but Arthur has known the man for a long time now and he's able to peel away the mask. He's able to find that small hint of sorrow in his eyes as he watches. 

Honestly, Arthur is surprised at the impact of Merlin's execution on his friends. They've only known the boy for a short while, perhaps only a little less than two weeks, and he's already managed to grow on them. 

Arthur shuts his eyes, not wanting to look any longer. He doesn't know if he'll be able to go through with the execution if he sees Hunith or Gaius standing there in the crowd, their faces stricken with grief. He knows this will be hard on Hunith. He's seen the amount of love the mother gives to her son, sees the love that she receives back from the boy. But, this is something that must be done. For the good of the kingdom.

He lets his hand drop, prompting the guard to toss the torch within the bundles of wood gathered around the pyre. The flames spread quickly, engulfing the mass of sticks in its fiery rage. 

Merlin tenses, his head swivelling about as he watches the fire leap up, and up, and up. He starts to kick with his feet, somehow hoping that would help calm the flames. As the first bits of the inferno begin to cling onto the servant's clothes and spread upwards a strangled shout is ripped from the warlock's throat.  

Arthur has to resist the urge to cover his ears, has to fight back the order to stop from coming out of his mouth when he sees the boy writhing and kicking in the flames. He sucks in a breath and keeps his face neutral for he knows that Agravaine is standing behind him, watching and observing his every move.   

 


	19. His Kingdom

Arthur has to drag himself through the hall, face sunken and hollow after what he was forced to watch. He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him: his knights, his uncle, Gaius, everyone. He knows what they'll say. His uncle would tell him he did the right thing, that Merlin was dangerous and a criminal. Gaius would look at him with that disapproving stare, the one that has always managed to crawl its way into his conscience. The physician would tell him that he was ashamed, that he thought Arthur was a better man before walking away. His knights would glare at him while conversing. They would pretend that nothing was wrong, but he'll be able to hear the slight edge in their voices, hear the venom in each word that poisons his heart with guilt. 

He heaves a heavy sigh, causing the servants around him to give a wide berth as they scuttle past the grieving king. And for almost the tenth time since he left the balcony has he been reminded of his manservant. Merlin wouldn't have cared if he were in a bad mood. The idiot would have run up to him anyways, calling him a prat or a clotpole at the sight of his grumpy expression as he walked along side him back to his chambers.

Arthur enters his room quietly, first noticing that his chambers seemed significantly cleaner, and then looking up to find Merlin standing by the wardrobe with a frown on his face as he inspects one of Arthur's tunics. The warlock gives him a warm smile when he sees his king enter, bundling up the tunic in his hand and tossing it towards the laundry basket in the corner of the room. The smile drops though once he sees the expression on Arthur's face. "Did Agravaine find out?" he asks, a little urgently.

Arthur ignores the question. Instead, he walks over to the servant, wrapping his arms around the boy's thin shoulders in a tight embrace. Merlin doesn't say anything, simply brings his own arms up to return the action. Arthur tugs him in closer, basking in everything that is Merlin and holding onto him so he could never leave again.

He can feel Merlin running a gentle hand up and down his back, trying to calm the man in his arms. He can feel the warlock's breath against his cheek, can catch the scent of herbs in the servant's clothes as he presses in closer. Arthur runs his fingers through the servant's hair, caresses the boy's cheek with the back of his hand just wanting to touch him, to feel the boy's smooth skin against his own, to know that he was here and safe in his arms.

Merlin pulls back slightly a few moments later, brushing his lips against the king's momentarily before he lets go. He smiles up at the man in front of him, giving a small chuckle as he uses his fingers to comb through Arthur's hair. "I told you I'd be fine," he says, "It was only an illusion spell. None of what anyone saw was real."

The king reaches up and grabs Merlin's hand, bringing it down to his lips so he could kiss the knuckles. "I know..."

"Then what's wrong? You aren't your usual prattish self."

Arthur tightens his grip on Merlin's hand. "It's hard to watch. It all seemed so... real. To be able to smell the smoke and fire, to hear your screams and then knowing that Gaius, your friends, and..." he swallows thickly, "...Hunith are seeing everything that I see, hearing everything that I hear except they don't know what I know. They don't know that all of it is faked. An image created out of your magic."

Merlin stiffens at the mention of his mother's name. He pulls his hand from Arthur's grip, staring down at the floor in shame for having lied about his own death to his mother.

Arthur shifts his gaze away as well, eyes filled with guilt for a different reason. Those sorcerers that have died by his father's hand... they all had families as well, each and every one of them. Was this what all those families felt as they stood and watched their loved ones die? Was this the pain that his father subjected those innocents to? 

"It was all necessary. We had to make it look believable to Agravaine and we can't do that without having to fool our friends as well." Merlin says after a moments silence, hoping to reassure them both. 

Arthur sighs, "I know and I wouldn't have done any different."

Merlin tries for a gentle smile, leaning in to give the king a peck on the cheek. "I'll be sure to apologize to them later, but right now we need to worry about your uncle. Do you think we were able to convince him?"

Arthur nods. "He did seem rather... happy after the execution. I'd assume we did."

Merlin smiles. "Alright, then. Now, we wait."

\------

The forest is quiet at this time in the night. Hardly a single sound can be heard save for the leaves rustling in the breeze. As Agravaine trudges forward towards the ridge where Morgana resides, he hears a branch snap behind him. He spins around immediately, hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sword as he waits. He stills his breathing and strains his ears to listen, trying to find the source of the noise. When he hears nothing more he relaxes slightly. Must have been an animal.

By the time he reaches Morgana's hovel he can hardly contain the grin on his face. The witch is sitting by the fire when he enters, staring into the flames while deep in thought. "My lady," Agravaine begins as he shuts the door to the hut, a triumphant tone in his voice, "I am pleased to announce that Emrys is no more."

The stool clatters to the floor as Morgana stands abruptly. Her eyes are wide in bewilderment and disbelief. "Are you sure? Emrys is dead?" she asks in rapid succession, moving closer towards the man. 

Agravaine smirks. "He has been taken care of, I assure you. I watched him burn with my own eyes."

An almost maniacal grin crosses Morgana's face and for the first time in a long while true happiness seems to enter her eyes. "And how is my dear brother fairing?"

"He's broken, wouldn't say a word to anyone afterwards. Camelot is ripe for the picking."

Morgana smirks as she steps outside, "Then we must not let this opportunity slip by." She wags a finger towards Agravaine, beckoning him forward. "Come, let us gather our men. Camelot shall be ours by the end of the week." 

Agravaine smiles, following his last into the darkness of the forest, not noticing the king and his sorcerer that hide behind the trees a short distance away. 

\-----

The king stares in angered silence as his uncle delves into the darkness of the forest. The shadows meld around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he disappears into the night. Arthur knows his fists are clenching beside him, can feel his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His eyes remain locked on the trail that his uncle had traveled down, gaze hardening as the anger grows within him like the flames that consume sorcerers at the stake. He feels the fire climbing upwards, higher and higher until they capture his mind in its fiery grasp, making him lose all sense of caution. His legs move on their own, lurching forward and ready to plunge into the darkness after his uncle before a hand on his shoulder pulls him back. He turns to find a pair of watery blue eyes staring back at him and almost instantly feels the angry fire in his mind being quenched until only the embers are left to fizzle in his head. 

"Running out will do you no good. What do you expect to do when Morgana is with him? Charge them with nothing but your sword?" Merlin says beside him, gripping tight on Arthur's shoulder as though he's afraid the man might try and run off again. 

"That's an idea," the king mumbles before feeling Merlin's grip tighten. 

"You are not charging Agravaine and Morgana with nothing but a sword," the warlock hisses, a clear warning that the prat would have something much more dangerous than his uncle and sister attacking him if he didn't listen. 

Arthur, however, refuses to heed the warning. "I have the most powerful sorcerer with me. I'm sure you can think of something, Emrys," he says, stretching out the word 'Emrys' till it sounded mocking. 

The servant sighs, "Yes, and as your all powerful warlock I say we head back to Camelot first."

The king scowls. "I'm still your king. I give the orders."

"And when have I ever listened to you? Now, lets go." He grabs the king's arm, tugging him away from the tree and towards the direction of the castle.

Arthur scowls, not amused at being ordered around by his servant. He pulls his arm away roughly, walking ahead of Merlin towards Camelot. He can hear the boy sigh behind him, but no complaints are thrown his way as he follows the king.

As the silence drags on Arthur feels his anger slowly ebb away. His shoulders slump, the tension leaving them and his fists unclench. With his mind clear, he's finally able to register his uncle's betrayal. Agravaine had been the traitor. He was the one who told Morgana about Ealdor. He was the one responsible for all those that died in the little farming village. Again, he's been betrayed by someone he trusted. Again, his family has let him down.

Arthur risks a quick look behind him, catching sight of the warlock that follows him quietly. The boy meets his gaze, tilting his head quizzically before Arthur averts his eyes. His father had always told him to be weary of who he trusts, that as king he should only give his trust to those that he felt would always be there for him. How ironic that a warlock, someone that his father has time and time again told him are cruel liars, is the one person he can trust the most, above even his own family. 

He heaves a sigh, staring ahead into the dim forest before asking, "Did I do something wrong?" 

He hears Merlin quicken his pace until they're walking alongside one another. "Of course not. You've done nothing wrong despite how much of a prat you can be at times."

Arthur sighs, not willing to retort to Merlin's jab, "Then why has my family left me? Did I hurt them? Do they see me as a bad king?"

Merlin thinks for a moment before answering, "I don't know your family all that well, but if they've betrayed you because of how you've chosen to rule your kingdom then they must not be good people. Arthur, you are a great king. You're just and kind. You know when to show mercy and you can make decisions that benefit the whole of Camelot. This kingdom is not your father's, not your sister's, not your uncle's, but yours. You choose how you want to rule. Not them." 

Arthur's eyes remain locked on the path ahead, gaze distant as he ponders Merlin's words. Camelot is his kingdom and a king can rule anyway he so wishes, but there are still good and bad kings. His own father, for example, had punished an entire group of people for the actions of one person. He had always thought he was doing the right thing, that he was saving his people from the terrors of magic, but many in Camelot thought otherwise. Did that make his father a good king? Doing what he thought was right? Or did that only make him a simple minded fool? And the biggest question of all was, is he making the same mistakes as his father? That's always been one of his fears, making mistakes. Failing as king. 

"But am I ruling the right way?" he asks, wanting - no, needing an answer. "If I can't even earn the love of my family, how am I to earn the love of my people?" 

He feels a hand slip into his, the reassuring warmth spreading through him almost like magic. He turns to look at Merlin who smiles at him sweetly. "You may not spend much time with your people, but I do. The Knights, the servants, the merchants, the farmers, they all speak highly of you. They love you as their king. They agree with what you choose to do and I'm sure they wouldn't want anyone else on the throne."

He smiles at the warlock's words and entwines their fingers together as he tugs him just a little closer. "Then we best get ready. Morgana can strike at any time and we must be prepared. I will not let her take my kingdom."


	20. One Last Time

Two days passed in relative silence. There was no sign of Morgana, but the people of Camelot kept themselves on high alert. They were always working, never willing to slow down and let the underlying sense of danger catch them. Everyone knew what was coming. The king had announced the potential attack from Morgana long ago. All that was left to do was prepare and wait.

The days went by in a blur to the citizens of Camelot. There was movement everywhere in the city and not a single soul was left without a task. The people of the lower town gathered their things and made their way towards the safety of the citadel walls. The servants busied themselves by carrying blankets throughout the castle to ensure sure there was enough space to house all the townspeople. The kitchen staff piled boxes upon boxes of food in the storage rooms to prepare for the upcoming weeks as no one knew when the siege may end. The knights were sent out on patrol all over the kingdom as the guards stayed in the palace, sharpening swords or stocking arrows.

The same routine continued on the third day, and as the people of Camelot were about to turn in for the night, the warning bells chimed.

\-----

Arthur leaps out of bed the second he hears the bells tolling. He grabs his clothes and armour, throwing them on as quickly, and as best, as possible. He sheathes his sword in his belt and bursts into Merlin's chambers, not caring if he accidentally gives the boy a heart attack.

"Is it Morgana?" Merlin asks, pulling on his last boot.

"Let's hope not. Come on." 

He heads out the door, Merlin following close behind, and makes his way towards the parapet at the top of the castle. The pair walk briskly through the citadel, paying no mind to the heads that turn their way when the king and his, supposedly dead, manservant pass in the hall.

When Arthur arrives at the empty parapet it's to be greeted by the sight of an array of lights. Fires dot the fields below, making the ground seem like a reflection of the starry sky above. He can see the soldiers that wait amongst the trees and a cold shiver runs down his spine at the scene. It's almost a mirror image of what happened in Ealdor. 

He turns to look at Merlin who stands beside him, also bracing his arms on the stone battlements. Anger is the only emotion in the warlock's eyes as he stares down at the army, no doubt thinking of the men that had attacked his home only mere weeks earlier. Arthur reaches a hand out, placing his overtop of Merlin's own and giving it a light squeeze. The servant's eyes soften slightly, but they don't turn to look at Arthur. His gaze remains locked on the enemies ahead though Arthur can feel the tension leave him somewhat. 

"You'll be careful?" Arthur asks.

Merlin gives a small smile. "I can take care of myself. There's no need to worry."

Arthur chuckles. "I recall you seemed to be more concerned over mushrooms than when a sword was pointed at your neck. How am I to know you won't risk your life to save a bunch of turnips this time?" 

He hears Merlin laugh and in the stillness of the night Arthur swears its the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. "Well, there is one turnip head I wouldn't mind risking my life for."

Arthur laughs as well, remembering the odd insult Merlin had once called him during better times. He lets their banter relieve the tension that has built up over the past few days and before he's able to respond he hears footsteps behind him. He turns to find Leon and a few knights carrying crossbows now with them on the parapets.

"Sire," Leon begins, though his, and many of the other knight's, focus seems to be trained on Merlin. "The others are waiting in the courtyard for your orders."

The king nods and removes his hand from atop Merlin's. "Are you going to see Hunith?" he asks. He's seen how much the woman's been grieving and can't bare to witness another day of it.

Merlin's smile turns sad before nodding. "No harm in telling her anymore. We know Agravaine won't be coming back so there's no point in hiding it."

Arthur gives him a reassuring pat on the back before turning to leave. He's yet to take the first step when he decides to throw all caution out the window. He spins around, grabs Merlin by the shoulders, and pulls him in to a kiss. He's well aware of Leon and a few of his other knights watching them, but he no longer cares. If this may be the last time he sees Merlin then he wants to make it a memory worth keeping. 

When he pulls away he finds Merlin's face flushed a bright red. He gives the boy one last cheeky smile before heading down to the courtyard. When he passes his knights he notices most are turned away, trying to pretend they hadn't seen anything. Leon though just smiles at him before brushing past while ordering the knights to ready themselves by the battlements. 

\-----

When Merlin reaches the physician's chambers his whole body is trembling and his mind is still the same jumbled mess as it had been when he first left the parapet. He had tried to figure out what to say to his mother. Should he just burst through the door or should he try for a more subtler approach? He knows that no matter how he tells her it wouldn't be able to quell the massive scolding he's about to receive from both his mother and Gaius, but he could at least try, right?

He still hasn't made up his mind when he knocks on the door, but by then it's already too late to turn back. He hears footsteps on the other side then the door is opened to reveal Gaius with his medicine satchel slung around his shoulder. Other than the physician the room seems empty. Merlin smiles at him a little nervously, "Hello Gaius."

The old man's face lights up, a wide smile appearing before he pulls him into a warm hug. "Merlin, my boy..." he says quietly, as though hardly able to believe what he's seeing in front of him. Merlin doesn't respond, only snuggles into the crook of the man's neck. 

When Gaius pulls back he inspects his apprentice up and down, afraid that his old eyes had made a mistake. He backs away when he's finally satisfied. "What happened? I watched you burn. How did you...?"

Merlin scratches the back of his head. "It's a long story, but... um... Agravaine was plotting something, we needed to lure him out, and he knows I'm a sorcerer so he wasn't willing to try anything without me out of the way."

The smile drops almost instantly from the physician's face. "How could you do something so foolish?! What would you have done if something went wrong?"

"I had to! We wouldn't know about this attack had I not done so! Either that or Arthur and I would both be dead while Morgana sits on the throne. I'm sorry for lying to you and mother, but we couldn't have Agravaine find out I was alive," Merlin explains.

Gaius stares at him for a moment, mind working as he passes judgment. "I expect you to explain this to your mother as well. She's been grieving over you this whole time."

The guilt settles in again as his mother is mentioned. Merlin nods. "I will. Where is she?"

"She's helping out at the infirmary. I'm headed there now if you'd like to follow," Gaius says as he heads into the hall. Merlin gives another nod and walks behind the physician as they make their way to the makeshift infirmary. 

Once they arrive Merlin finds the entire place bustling with movement. Many servants are setting up beds in the normally empty room to house the wounded that are sure to come in. Water basins are set beside every bed as well as a mound of wash cloths. Bandages are piled on a table in the centre of the room for easy access and a collection of herbs and potions are placed on a shelf that has been pushed towards the wall. 

Merlin spots his mother standing by said shelf. She's arranging the bottles, making sure everything is in its place. He's about to approach when Gaius pushes him back. The physician shakes his head and walks over to her first. He greets her casually, smiling as he speaks. Merlin can see his mother from where he's standing and he can hardly believe how much she has seemed to age within the few short days he's been hiding. She looks to have aged ten years between the time he's last seen her to now and the thought that it's all his fault she's in such a state sends a piercing pain through his chest. 

Despite this he tries his best to smile when his mother looks over to him. Her eyes widen, and the bottles she holds in her hands slip to the floor. Everything seems to no longer matter to her as she crosses the short distance towards her son and to Merlin nothing else seems to matter to him either. The ever widening smile that grows on her face the closer she gets sends all his worries away. The glint of light in her eyes makes him feel as though he can do anything, so long as that light never died. 

She stops in front of him, simply taking in that her son is really here, that he's alive and well. She lifts up a hand slowly as though afraid he were only a ghost, a figment of her imagination that would disappear at a single touch. Merlin lifts up his own hand and reaches for hers, holding it tightly to show that he is here. That he is real. 

Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. She leans in until her forehead is against his chest and her fingers are digging in to the neckerchief around his neck. "Oh, Merlin..." she says quietly, soothingly.

He smiles down at her, wrapping his arms around her thin frame and pulling her in as close as he can. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he whispers gently.

\-----

Arthur stands at the front lines as he waits. His sword is already in hand as he watches the large wooden gates begin to crack at the force of the men that are pounding at its door. He glances down at the makeshift barricade he stands on. It won't hold anyone back but at least it'll give his men some protection and the upper hand in the fight. 

His grip tightens on the hilt of his sword as a loud crack sounds. Splinters and pieces of timber fly off the gates as an axe splits its way through the wood, revealing the cruel smile of the man on the other side. Arthur tenses up, feeling the thrill from battle start to pump through his veins with each crack from the axe hitting the door.

He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves and preparing himself for battle. He glances behind him, seeing the faces of his friends all standing at the ready. There is no fear in their eyes as they wait. They are all ready to die for their kingdom. 

Arthur can't help the smile that appears on his face. It wouldn't be too bad to die fighting with comrades like them. 

His expression turns cold as he shifts his gaze towards the door once again. Finally, the wooden gate splits open from the force of the men on the other side and Agravaine is seen striding through in the lead.

Arthur sees his uncle's eyes widen in surprise as the man spots him standing atop the barricade, most likely having expected Arthur to have been too broken at Merlin's death to fight. The king only stares back, keeping his face regal as his father had trained him. He pulls the sword from his belt, holding it up high for his army to see while maintaining eye contact with Agravaine and for the first time he sees true fear in his uncle's eyes. 


	21. The First Battle

Whether they be Camelot knights or Agravaine's saxons, men fall left and right throughout the battlefield. Angry war cries echo across the walls as the armed men charge towards the front lines only to be cut down by some nearby soldier or shot by the crossbowmen standing up in the battlements. Orders are shouted loud and clear by either Agravaine or Arthur as the men continuously charge at one another, neither side seeming to be able to gain the upper hand. 

Merlin's hardly able to contain the horror from his face as he watches the bloodshed in the lower town from the parapet. He's tempted to turn the other way and run back to his mother, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks. He turns to see Leon beside him, loading another bolt into his crossbow with a worried expression. "Are you sure you can do this Merlin?" he asks, "Arthur would understand if you can't."

Merlin swallows the lump in his throat as he stares down at the chaos beneath him. Everything is a blur of red and black as the two armies clash and yet, through it all, his eyes are able to pick out the golden glow of his king in the centre of the mass. Arthur is plunging through the army before him, fighting with all his might to defend his home while he stands up on the battlements and away from harm, doing nothing to help. 

He shakes his head in response, "No, I can do this. I want to help," he says, hoping Leon didn't hear the slight quiver in his voice. 

"There are other ways you can help. You don't need to feel obligated to do anything you don't want to." Leon scrunches his brows with concern.

Merlin takes in a deep breath and lifts up a trembling hand. He points it down towards the army and lets his magic flow towards his fingertips. "I'm not doing this because I feel that it's my duty. I'm doing it because I don't want to lose my home to Morgana a second time."

The warlock shuts his eyes and concentrates. He digs deep into his very core, pulling at the strings and reining in his power. His magic responds to the call. It courses through his veins, filling him to near bursting with energy before he's able to channel the magic towards his hand. Then, with a simple flick of his wrist and a golden glow from his eyes the spell is cast. 

The wind suddenly picks up. Its howling cry piercing through the night, louder than any of the shouts from the army below. The dirt and leaves that lie on the battlefield start to spin, twirling and dancing through the air as the wind carries them up. The smoke from the nearby fires are pulled in soon after, helping to create a twister made of darkness in the centre of the incoming army. 

Agravaine's soldiers cry out in terror as they're swept up into the whirlwind. No one is safe as the cyclone moves deeper into the crowd, the powerful winds sweeping away any poor soul that attempts to escape. 

Merlin concentrates harder, pouring more of his magic into his creation to increase its size while also making sure it won't destroy any of the nearby homes. He can feel himself tiring quickly, his arms growing heavy as time passes. He's never used so much magic at once. Everything he's done before has always been simple things such as lifting a cup or starting a campfire. Never has he made anything of this calibre.  

He starts to feel the magic slip from his grasp and the whirlwind start to weaken. He grits his teeth and tries his hardest to keep hold of the spell, to keep the twister going for a little longer, but his strength fails him. The cyclone fades almost as quickly as it had appeared, the only sign of its existence being the mess of injured and dead bodies it had left in its wake. 

Merlin then collapses against the battlements, feeling tired and exhausted as he gasps for air. Leon is beside him in an instant, helping sit the warlock down as he catches his breath.

"I thought Arthur told you to be careful," he chides.

The servant gives a weak chuckle, "I never listen to his orders."

Leon heaves a sigh, trying to look exasperated, but fails due to the smile on his face. "You know I'll be the one in trouble if anything happens to you."

"Then its a good thing nothing will happen to me." Merlin grins then gets to his feet. He almost falls right back down on the ground before Leon's able to steady him and he can almost feel the pointed stare directed his way by the knight. Merlin flashes another smile in thanks then leans over the battlements to get a better look at the fight below. 

From what he can see, Arthur is winning. Agravaine's army is being pushed back rather easily as they now no longer hold any strength in numbers. Though they seem to refuse to admit defeat, it won't be long now before the army is overtaken by Arthur and his knights. 

Merlin smiles, happy to see the battle is almost over. He gives himself a few minutes for more of his strength to recover before lifting his hand again in the direction of the battlefield. He won't be able to create another spectacle such as the last one so soon, but the least he can do is help even if it is only a little.

He keeps his eyes trained on Arthur as the man fights, using his magic to dispose of any of Agravaine's men that get too close. He's throwing one of the Saxons coming up behind Arthur against a wall when he notices the king turn in his direction, seeming to notice the extra aid. He swears he can see Arthur give him a quick nod in gratitude before turning back to the battle. 

Merlin drops his hand, a wide smile on his face as he watches some of the men begin to flee. Cheers start to rise up from the archers beside him. They all hoist their crossbows in the air, yelling taunts after the fleeing soldiers as they watch their brethren chase the Saxons away. Even Leon is watching with a smirk as the enemy soldiers vacate the lower town, happy to see the battle is coming to a close.

The warlock braces his arms on the stone, looking down in eagerness as the last remaining Saxons dwindle away. He's almost ready to head down to congratulate Arthur on his win when a wave of new figures emerge from beyond the city gates. Merlin squints his eyes, leaning forward on the battlements to try and get a clearer view, but he's still too far away to see much. At first, he assumes that Agravaine had simply sent in a fresh wave of soldiers, but the sudden retreat from the king and his men makes him reconsider. What could have forced them back so easily? The new enemies seemed to be the same as the old ones. The only difference being that they seemed to be fewer in number.

Merlin turns to look at Leon, finding the knight to be in a similar state of confusion. The man is squinting out into the distance as well, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. The archers that line the battlements start to take aim again, their expressions puzzled as they rain arrows down upon their foes. 

"What do you think happened?" Leon asks as he leans over the wall beside the warlock. 

"I don't know," Merlin replies, hoping that whatever it may be Arthur will be able to handle it. 

\-----

The king lets out a breath, a smile starting to form on his face as he watches the Saxons bolt towards the exit. He can already hear the cheers start to rise up from the knights behind him as the men disappear into the trees and he can't help but join them with his sword raised in the air with pride. 

He didn't expect the battle to conclude so quickly, but then again he's never had an all powerful warlock helping him from the sidelines. At the thought of his idiot servant he glances up to the battlements again, wanting nothing more than to dash up to the boy and kiss him senseless. But, with a quick glance around him, he knows he'll have to wait. There are still injuries to treat and fires to put out. He needs to put the safety of his men and kingdom first. 

He turns to face his army, a smile on his face as he recognizes many familiar faces all seeming to be in good health. There's Gwaine for example, who still looks to be able to drink an entire tavern dry even after the fight. Or Elyan, who seems to be able to make another dozen swords at his father's workshop if he wanted. 

Yet, despite seeing all his friend's faces he can't seem to let his guard down. He should be overflowing with happiness at the easy win, but something still nags at him in the deepest recesses of his mind, a question that can't seem to go away. Where was Morgana?

She was always a fearsome presence during such battles whether she be leading the charge or standing a short distance away and casting spells. Yet, this time she was no where to be found. There wasn't a single spell cast against his army and Agravaine had been the one leading the attack. Had she been so confident of her win that she believed his uncle could have taken Camelot all on his own? Did she underestimate his abilities? Or is she planning something else, something much more devastating that they have yet to see?

His thoughts are interrupted by a terrified shout coming from a few of his men. He looks up to find his army staring at something behind him, most of them frozen in horror at the spectacle. Arthur tightens his grip on his sword, bracing himself for the worst before turning. He almost drops his weapon when his eyes meet the hollowed sockets of the armed soldiers in front of him and he's barely able to keep his composure as the creatures take a step forward. 

He narrows his eyes, shifting in his spot as he readies himself. He makes sure to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to let the enemy know they terrify him while he glares daggers at Agravaine who stands leisurely behind his new army. The king barks out an order to his knights, warning them to prepare for battle as more of the skeletons appear from the darkness, all with equally mad grins on their skulls.

Just as he lifts up his weapon the first skeleton charges forward. Arthur's taken aback at the skeletons agility, but is able to quickly regain his composure. He slashes at the creatures neck, easily severing the skull from the rest of its body. The head clatters to the ground and starts to roll away and yet, despite this, the rest of the creatures bones remain standing. The skeleton seems uncaring at the loss of its head as it simply bends down, picking up its lost cranium and screws it back in place. When the creature finally manages to turn its skull to face the correct direction Arthur swears he can see the thing frown at him before it lifts its sword. 

Thankfully, he manages to duck out of the weapons range, but no matter where he hits the skeleton doesn't go down. Whether it be cutting it in half or chopping off its arms the soldier continues to stitch itself back together, continuing on as though nothing had happened. Arthur curses under his breath as he attempts to fight back the new foes, getting angrier with each knight that falls around him. 

Arrows seem to have no effect on the skeletons either. Many walk about with arrows stuck through their skulls or broken shafts lodged in their ribcages and yet they're still able to move forward, never relenting from their attack. They're even able to survive the cascade of fire, which is undoubtedly made by Merlin, that rains down upon them as though it were nothing at all. 

Eventually, after another few hopeless minutes of battle the king has no choice but to call a retreat. He waves his soldiers forward, ushering them through the gates to the citadel before shutting the doors and separating the living from the dead. 

He lets out a tired breath, turning to look at the weary faces of his knights. He's glad to see that quite a few made it out alive, but not as many as he would have hoped. Even if they returned in one piece there are many that are injured. Some have blood dripping down their arms or are sporting cuts and bruises all over. He himself has a couple scratches, but nothing as severe as some of his comrades and so when Gaius rushes over to check on him first he quickly brushes the physician aside. 

Arthur sighs, rubbing at his eyes as he allows his men time to rest. What can he do? How is he to stop an army of the undead when nothing can kill them, not even magic? He looks at the sight around him, not able to hide the painful tug in his chest as he watches more of his knights, his friends, get taken into the infirmary, all groaning in pain as they start to succumb to their wounds. What can he do to protect his people?

The king sighs again as he slumps down on the steps, eyes unfocused as he tries to come up with a plan. Should he surrender and hope that Morgana has enough of a heart to spare his people? No, she would never do such a thing. Knowing her, she would kill them all simply to spite him. He concentrates harder, gathering up all the experience he's ever had in battle to try and come up with a plan, but all his mind is able to do is draw up a blank. 

The sound of rushing footsteps draws Arthur out of his thinking. He looks to the source of the noise only to find Merlin dashing through the halls, a sword bundled in his arms while weaving in and out of the passing servants in a hurry. There's an urgent air surrounding the boy as he rushes down the hall that makes Arthur's worry spike tenfold. He gets to his feet, running after the boy and shouting, "Merlin! Where are you going?"

The warlock skids to a halt, almost colliding with another servant as he turns to face the king. A relieved smile seems to cross his face for a brief moment before its replaced by the same sense of urgency as before. He's already starting to run when he shouts his reply, "There's something I need to do. Just- just wait for me!" 

And with that Merlin is gone, having turned the corner and disappeared. All Arthur can do is stare in confusion as he tries to piece together his servant's words. What in the world is Merlin up to now?


	22. It's For Luck

Merlin turns the corner and sprints as fast as he can down the hall, letting the strange voice in his head coax him forward towards his destination.

_"You're almost there young warlock. Just a bit further."_

Merlin quickens his pace, rounding another corner before he stops at the top of the staircase. He looks down into the abyss, feeling an immense amount of ancient magic pouring forth from the darkness. 

_"Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you."_

Merlin takes in a deep breath and grabs a torch off the wall. He clutches the sword tightly to his chest as he makes his way down the steps, wondering who is at the bottom.

He had heard the voice in his head when he was atop the battlements, worrying over what to do about the incoming skeletons. His magic couldn't hurt them and as far as he could tell neither did any sort of weapon. He was out of options and out of ideas. That was when the voice had whispered into his ear, telling him to head down to the lowest part of the castle with a sword. Normally, if a random voice started talking to him through his mind he would try and ignore it, but the promise the voice had made about having a way to defeat the skeletons had made him reconsider. He had heard the voice speaking to him before and it never seemed to want to cause him any harm, and if they wanted to help who was he to stop them? And that is how he ended up alone as he heads down to who knows where. 

When he finally reaches the end of the staircase he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Every sound sends all the nerves in his body leaping in fear as he continues down the small tunnel. He stiffens when he hears chains clinking nearby and he's almost ready to turn tail and run, but the thought of what the voice has promised makes him continue on. 

As the tunnel opens up Merlin can't keep the awe from showing on his face. Stalactites hang from the ceiling of the cavern, seeming to threaten to pierce anyone who dares to walk under them. There's a large pit a few feet in front of him and he has to take a step back in fear of falling over the edge. In the centre of the cavern a large stone protrudes out of the abyss. There's nothing on the rock except a large chain that's bigger than him leading into the hole. 

Merlin tries to peer over the edge, wondering where the chain leads to but only manages to see darkness. He looks around him, now questioning where the owner of the voice is. He doesn't see anyone.

Feeling disappointed and frustrated the warlock turns to leave. He's an idiot to think that a random voice could help him. Just as he's about to re-enter the tunnel wind starts to whip though his hair. He turns around in time to see a creature soar into the air from the darkness, circling once over the protruding rock before perching on the stone. As the creature settles its large wings Merlin simply stares in shock. A dragon. There's a dragon underneath the castle of Camelot. 

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, young warlock," the dragon says with a smirk. 

"Um... a pleasure to meet you too? Who are you?" he asks, surprised that his voice came out at all.

The dragon chuckles at his response, amusement flashing in its ancient eyes as it regards him. "I am known as many things, boy. The Great Dragon, for example, but you may call me Kilgharrah."

"I'm Merlin," he says, about to extend a hand but remembering that the dragon didn't exactly have any, "Or Emrys, as some call me."

"I know who you are, young warlock. I have known for a long time as your rise has been foretold by many, but let us skip the formalities. There are much more pressing matters to discuss would you not agree?"

With the mention of the ongoing siege Merlin pushes the awe out of his mind. There will be time after the battle to speak with the dragon. Right now he needs to accomplish what he came down to the cavern for. "You said you know how to defeat those skeletons. So tell me how."

Kilgharrah smirks. "Indeed I do, but before I help you, you must agree to help me."

Merlin hesitates for a moment before nodding his head. "I promise that I will. Now please, tell me how to defeat those skeletons."

The dragon smirks, coiling down more comfortably on the rocks. "Very well. In order to defeat the skeletons you must destroy the source of its power. You must find the staff carved from the Rowan Tree that grows at the very centre of the Isle of the Blessed. Once you find this staff break it, and the spell will be lifted. Though I must warn you that the witch will not make this easy for you. She will be waiting,"

Merlin swallows thickly, getting nervous at the thought of Morgana and her cold eyes. If he had any other choice he would choose to never see her again, but what other option is there? If he doesn't go then Camelot will fall. With his decision made he looks back up to the dragon, a new question in his mind. "But what about Camelot? It'll be overrun while I try to find it."

Again, Kilgharrah chuckles. "You brought a sword like I asked for did you not?"

Merlin glances down to the bundle in his hand. He unwraps the weapon, showing the creature the sword he had brought. 

"Excellent," the dragon says, leaning in closer, "now hold it up."

Merlin does as the Great Dragon says, holding the weapon out blade first in front of him. Kigharrah's eyes begin to glow an even brighter gold and suddenly, the sword floats out of his hand. It hovers over the abyss, a few feet in front of the dragon as the creature's eyes glow gold again. The time, Kilgharrah opens its mouth, breathing out a swirl of fire that is filled with powerful magic. The sword begins to glow as its enveloped by the flames, the weapon fusing with the ancient magic of the dragon. 

As the last embers die away the sword seems to be an entirely different weapon. The hilt is trimmed with gold and there are words etched into the flat of the blade. 

"Take me up, and cast me away," Merlin reads aloud as the sword hovers back towards him. He's about to grab the hilt when the sword is suddenly pulled away.

"A weapon forged in a dragon's breath can kill anything, whether it be dead or undead. It is the most powerful weapon man can wield and it should help your king defend Camelot as you search for the staff. But before I give you this blade you must promise me," the dragon says, the amusement now gone from its eyes, "that only Arthur will ever wield this blade."

Merlin nods. "I promise."

"And," Kilgharrah says, "when I give you this blade you must free me."

"Free you?" Merlin asks, tilting his head in question, "how?"

"Use this blade and cut the chain that keeps me here. With the help of your magic you will be able to finally free me from this cage."

Merlin takes a step forward, moving closer to the edge and with a nod of his head the sword floats back towards him, hovering close enough for him to grab the weapon. He turns the blade in his hand, surprised to find it well balanced and the hilt comfortable in his grip.

Stairs then appear beside him, spiralling down towards the pit before straightening into a path that leads towards the centre rock. He follows the steps down, hearing the clinking of the chains grow louder the closer he gets. When he reaches the chains he stands over them, surprised to find each link almost the length of his whole body. He looks up to the dragon, seeing the eager glow in its eyes as it waits. 

Merlin takes in a deep breath and hoists up the sword. He chants a spell, letting his magic flow into the blade before bringing it down onto the metal links. With a loud crack the chains shatter, breaking apart under the sword as it slices clean through. 

Kilgharrah lets out a mighty roar in happiness, stretching out its wings as though ready to take off. It leans down after its short celebration, a smile on its face as it regards the warlock. "Thank you, Merlin, for freeing me."

Merlin gives a smile back, "What will you do now?" he asks. 

"I refuse to believe that I am the last of my kind. I will roam the lands in hopes of finding at least one more of my kin."

"Will you not help?" Merlin inquires, somewhat hopefully, "If there's a dragon helping I'm sure not even Morgana can-"

"This is all I can do to help you young warlock for this is your destiny. I have given you and your king the means to fight the witch, but it is up to you to use it."

Merlin looks down glumly. A dragon would have been beyond helpful. Though he's not sure how much Arthur would appreciate him bringing a dragon into Camelot. 

"I must warn you though, Emrys," the dragon speaks again, making Merlin turn his attention back up to the Great Dragon, "that even though you are called Morgana's doom you are also called her destiny."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks, growing uneasy at what the dragon may be implying.

"I mean that the future is not yet set in stone. If you are not careful, you may very well perish by the witch's hand."

Merlin stiffens, swallowing thickly. He can feel his hands start to tremble beside him at the bluntness of the dragon's words. Perish. Meaning he may die from Morgana. The thought sends a shudder down his spine. All his instincts tell him to run, that this isn't worth his life, but the memories of what Morgana has done to his home keeps him from cowering away. Not only has she destroyed Ealdor but she's in the process of taking Camelot now as well. There's no way he'll allow her to win. Not if he's able to stop her. 

"I understand," Merlin says, voice firm with resolve. "But can I ask you for one last favour?" 

\-----

Arthur paces back and forth along the length of the courtyard, body tense like a bowstring as he weighs his options. At the moment there are only two choices, three if Merlin has a plan. One, he can surrender and hope for the best. Two, he can keep fighting until his last breath. Or three, Merlin comes back and the 'something' he was busy running off doing manages to help them. He's hoping for the latter option as that seems to be the only chance he has to save the kingdom. If not, than the second is the next best choice. There is no chance he'll surrender to Morgana.

A loud thud sounds against the wood of the courtyard gates and Arthur instinctively reaches for the handle of his sword. He notices many of his knights and guards dash up towards the door, readying their own weapons as the thudding grows in volume.

Arthur grits his teeth in anger as he unsheathes his sword. It seems option two it is.

The gates almost about to break down when he hears the flapping of wings above him. He looks up, eyes widening as he watches the dragon soar down from the sky, landing in the centre of the courtyard. He staggers back as the wind blows through the area. He holds his sword out to the beast as his mind begins to fill with new questions and worries. Where did a dragon come from? Is it Morgana's? How is he able to beat something like this when there are un-killable skeletons at his doorstep?

His knights have all turned their attention now on the creature in front of them. They slowly walk up behind their king, weapons brandished as they wait for orders. He's about ready to call an attack when a figure slips down from the dragon's back, a sword bundled in his arms. "Arthur!" Merlin calls out to him as he dashes towards the king.

Arthur sighs, ordering his men to stand down an return to the gate while the warlock stops in front of him. "Merlin!" he begins as Merlin tears the sword out of the king's grip and tosses it to a passing knight, "what are you doing?! Where did a dragon come from?!" he demands. 

The warlock though doesn't reply to his question. Instead he holds out the sword he's been carrying around and hands it to the king. "Please, use this," he says, as though that would answer everything.

Arthur takes the weapon gingerly. His first thought as he grasps the handle is about how comfortable the grip is in his palm. He lifts up the blade, turning it over in his hand to find it sharpened and polished, the edges reflecting the dim moonlight. He swings it once, again surprised to find it perfectly balanced. He looks at the engravings on the blade, trying to read what it says but it seems to be written in a different language. "Where did you get this?" He asks as he spins the sword in his hand again.

"The dragon, but that's not important," Merlin stammers out as the thudding on the gates grow louder, "This should help you keep the skeletons at bay."

Arthur looks at the blade again, not seeing anything that might make the sword special. Perhaps Merlin had enchanted it? Or the dragon had done something? Regardless he's willing to put his trust in the warlock. He has no better option anyways. "Thank you," he says. 

Merlin smiles and all of Arthur's troubles seem to melt away at the sight. He feels as though he'll be able to face anything so long as the warlock's with him. With a sly smirk, Arthur leans in, planting a quick kiss to Merlin's lips. His cocky grin grows even wider when he sees Merlin start to blush, the boy's head turning frantically as he hopes no one had seen. "Arthur!" he hisses at him in embarrassment.

The king chuckles, "It's for luck."

Merlin puts on a pout before turning to walk back towards the waiting dragon. He only makes it a few steps before Arthur reaches out to grab his wrist. "Where are you going now?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm going to stop the skeletons," he replies, pulling his arm free and mounting the dragon. 

Arthur follows after him, standing by the creature's stomach. "And how will you do that?"

After shifting comfortably into his spot on the dragon's back the warlock glances down to the king, "I need to find the staff Morgana used to cast the spell. If I break it, the skeleton's should fall soon after."

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, the irritation clear in his eyes. "You're going to do this alone?"

"Not entirely. Kilgharrah will be taking me to the location." He says this while patting the dragon's hide, making Arthur assume it must be Kilgharrah.

"I am not letting you do this alone. I'm coming with you," he states, about to mount the dragon himself before Merlin shakes his head in disapproval. 

"You need to stay here. Without you the kingdom will fall."

"But what if something happens to you? You could get hurt or even killed! You want me to wait here as you fly off to your death sentence?"

Merlin flashes a cheeky smile. "You're worried about me?"

Arthur narrows his eyes. "This isn't a game, Merlin. You know Morgana's going to be there waiting for you. She'll kill you."

Again, Merlin grins but the gesture seems to falter. "And according to destiny Emrys will defeat her."

"I don't care what destiny says about you defeating her. I won't stake your life on some words a sorcerer I met in the woods told me. Merlin, please. Don't do this." Arthur's practically begging now. Morgana has already taken so many of his loved ones from him. He's not going to let her take anyone else. Especially not Merlin. 

"Arthur... you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Arthur mutters the words quietly.

Merlin leaps down from his mount so they're standing face to face. The fake smiles are gone from the servant's expression. The humour and usual carefree attitude, gone. Instead, all Arthur can see is the seriousness in the warlock's eyes. There's no hesitation. No doubts about his decision. "Then trust me when I tell you that I will be fine. I promise."

Arthur tightens his hold on the hilt of his new sword. He wants to say no. Wants to force Merlin to stay here with him or have them both go together, but the sound of the doors bursting open and the shouts from his men makes him finally give in. "Go," he says, waving a hand towards the waiting creature.

Merlin smiles then leans in and plants a quick kiss on Arthur's lips. When he pulls back the seriousness from before is gone, the mask of playfulness having descended over his features once again. "It's for luck," he says, echoing Arthur's previous words with a smirk before climbing onto the dragon. 

With a few whispered words the creature soars into the air, sending soldiers spiralling backwards from the force of the wind generated from its wings. Arthur has to raise an arm over his face to shield himself from the dust as the dragon ascends higher and higher into the sky. Soon, all he can see is the beast's silhouette before it turns towards the forest and disappears into the night. 

Arthur lets out a breath, telling himself that Merlin will be fine. That the idiot can protect himself if the time comes. Besides, as Merlin had said, he has to defend his kingdom. 

With one last look up to the sky he turns his attention to the skeletons swarming through the gates. He spins his new weapon once in his hand, getting a feel for the blade before dashing towards the chaos.


	23. Fateful Encounters

There's a wild thrill shooting through Merlin's veins as the dragon carries him up into the sky. The sound of the howling wind and the feel of the frigid air rippling through his hair makes him bounce with energy. Despite having already ridden the creature once earlier he can still hardly believe his eyes as he begins to sail towards the stars. The higher he travels up into the night sky the more breathtaking the view becomes. He can see every cloud, every star as the dragon soars through the air. He wants to reach out, wants to grab the glimmering lights in the sky, but of course that isn't possible. He risks a glance down, suddenly feeling nauseous as he watches the castle shrink below them. The forests come into view, the entire expanse of trees in front of him seem almost surreal as he stares out over the horizon. 

"Merlin," Kilgharrah suddenly speaks up, shaking him out of his reverie, "we must hurry."

He sends another glance downwards, seeing the incoming army start to plunge through the gates and he's suddenly thrust back into reality. Kilgharrah is right, time is of the essence. He shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath. He calms the rapid beating of his heart, shuts his mind off to the howling winds around him. Instead, he focuses on the thrum of magic always in the air, always in everything around him. He concentrates on the threads of energy that entwines itself on every living being and uses that to help him find what's broken. He searches through the magic that surrounds him, digging down deeper and deeper until he finds it, the disturbance in nature's balance. 

He opens his eyes, able to feel the dark magic pulsating out from a single source somewhere deep in the Forest of Ascetir. He looks down to Kilgharrah and pats the dragon's head before pointing out into the distance. "Over there. That's where Morgana is."

With a single flap of its wings the creature puts on a burst of speed. It cuts through the air, quickly soaring over the city and towards the forest. When Merlin can feel the pulse of dark magic just below him it seems as though hardly any time has passed. Kilgharrah drops down, flapping its wings gently and landing in a clearing a short distance away from the source. Merlin dismounts from the dragon, giving it a warm smile before stroking its muzzle. "Thank you, Kilgharrah," he says.

The dragon bows its head, a smile seeming to play across its lips. "It was my honour, young warlock. I wish you luck in your endeavour."

Again, Merlin smiles. "And I wish you luck in yours."

With one last smile Kilgharrah looks to the sky. It stretches out its wings and flaps them once before launching into the air. A blast of wind, sends leaves and grass flying towards the warlock's face and he has to raise an arm to shield himself from the debris. By the time he looks up the dragon is already gone, having disappeared into the night.   

Merlin smiles, muttering a silent goodbye before looking towards where he knows Morgana will be waiting. There, in the distance, a dilapidated castle sits alone, immense magical energy emanating from its core.  

\-----

Arthur charges towards the army with weapon raised. He thrusts his new blade into the closest skeleton, expecting the creature to shrug off the blow as usual, but to his surprise the skeleton starts to shriek. He pulls his sword out quickly, staring in surprise as it starts to glow a bright blue. The creature then crumbles into a pile of ash, being picked up and carried away by the wind a moment later. The king looks down in amazement at the weapon in his hand. Where in the world did Merlin get this? 

Before he's able to think for too long another skeleton lunges in his direction. He sidesteps the blow, knocking the weapon out of the creature's hands before slicing at its neck. Again, the skeleton disintegrates, leaving behind nothing but a pile of dust. 

Arthur smiles as he spins the sword in his hand. He's going to have to ask Merlin to procure a dozen of these swords when this is over.

With the help of his new weapon he's able to hold back the skeletons to an extent. Their progression has slowed, but he's still only one man against an entire army. The other knights may be able to defend the line, but only he's able to do any real harm. His arms are already starting to grow tired as the battle progresses and judging by his rapid breaths and pounding heart he won't be able to continue for much longer. 

The skeletons begin to close in on the citadel, the creatures looming deathly close as they start to push past the gates. Arthur grits his teeth and quickens his pace, hoping to thin their numbers enough to be manageable. Through the thick of it all he spots Agravaine. His uncle is standing behind the army of undead, a victorious smirk on his face as he watches the knights of Camelot fall. 

Anger flares through the king at the sight of the man's face. Agravaine has caused so much pain, so much suffering, not only to him but to everyone in the kingdom. A traitor like him deserves nothing short of death. 

His uncle seems to notice the menacing glare in his eyes as the triumphant attitude falters for a brief moment. He sees the way his uncle stares back, a wicked gleam in his eyes as though challenging him. 

Arthur snarls in response and starts to advance, cutting his way past the undead. His uncle seems to do the same, pulling his sword out and making his way through his army, smug smile still on his lips. The skeletons part for their leader as the man strides through, steps sure and full of confidence. 

As the two come face to face tension runs high on the battlefield. The pair lock eyes, their gazes piercing through one another as they ready their weapons. 

Agravaine smirks as they circle each other, "So, where has your pet sorcerer run off to?"

A growl rises up from deep in Arthur's throat, but he doesn't reply, choosing to concentrate on his uncle's movements.

Agravaine chuckles at the silence. "Well, you both sure surprised me. I didn't expect him to be alive." 

Still, Arthur remains silent though the fire continues to burn in his eyes, now fuelling his energy. 

"Well no matter. He'll be taken care of soon enough," Agravaine says with a sly grin.  

With that Arthur charges. Agravaine deflects the first strike easily. He spins on his heel, aiming a blow to Arthur's side in hopes of being able to land a hit before the king's able to recover. Fortunately, Arthur manages to lurch backwards in time, barely escaping the edge of the blade. 

Arthur breathes heavily, holding his sword put in front of him in a defensive stance as he tries to calm himself. Never allow emotions to cloud judgement in a duel. That was what his father always said. It was the first thing he ever taught him about sword fighting. 

With another few breaths he manages to quell the rage inside him. He looks up at his uncle, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword and focusing his eyes on the other man, waiting. 

This time, Agravaine is the first to strike. His uncle rushes forward, aiming a blow to his head which Arthur ducks under easily. The king raises his own weapon, not giving his uncle a chance to regain his footing as he smashes the pommel of his sword down on the man's head. 

Agravaine drops his weapon, crumbling to the floor as he groans. He reaches a hand up to the wound and feels blood coat his fingers. The man looks up at his nephew, the smug grin still on his face as Arthur towers over him with a blade to his neck. 

Agravaine laughs and gets to his knees, hands up in surrender. "Well, wasn't much of a surprise. Now, get on with it. Get your revenge."

Instead of doing as he says Arthur pulls his sword away from the man's throat, but he doesn't respond.

Again, a laugh echoes over the battlefield. Agravaine gives a triumphant smirk. "You can't do it, can you?" When the king refuses to reply again Agravaine scoffs. "And this is why the lady Morgana is much more fit to rule. A coward could never lead this kingdom to greatness."

Arthur takes in a deep breath. He won't allow Agravaine's taunts to get to him a second time. "Mercy is a sign of strength, not cowardice," he begins, "I'm choosing to give you your life uncle, but know that hence forth you are banished from Camelot on pain of death if you return." He turns away.  "Now leave before I change my mind."

"I won't take your pity," Agravaine snarls at him, "Finish the job!" 

Arthur ignores the man and walks away, sword in hand and ready to return to battle when he hears the dirt crunch behind him. He spins around, thrusting the blade forward and through his uncle's chest. The sword drops from the man's hands, slipping away mid-slash. Agravaine drops to his knees once more, hand gripping the gaping hole in his chest in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. A smirk curls on the man's lips as he topples to his side, the strength leaving his body. "I underestimated you. You did have the courage," the man coughs, "But your warlock will not succeed. Camelot will fall and Morgana shall take the throne."

"I trust Merlin more than anyone. He won't let me down."

With the last of his breath his uncle gives a small laugh, "And how often have the people you trust let you down?"

Those words linger in Arthur's head as his uncle goes still, hand dropping down to his side as he falls limp. The king turns away and rushes back into battle not giving his mind the time to register the new fear starting to creep into his head. 

He concentrates on fighting, on taking down those grinning creatures as he slashes and hacks his way through the army, not giving himself even a moment to collect his thoughts. He lets the heat of the battle take control, allows his mind to be consumed with the thrill of a duel and forces his body to continue to move.

He only stops when the skeleton he's currently facing freezes suddenly. Arthur stares, turning to look as the others around the courtyard and finds them all to be in a similar condition. The skeletons are halted in place in varying positions as though frozen in time before they collectively break apart. The bones detach from each other, all crumbling to the floor in a pile with a loud clatter. One more look around and he finds nothing but piles of bones, his knights, and a small number of scared Saxons in the courtyard. 

He smiles to himself with relief and happiness. Merlin did come through after all. Though he did wish the warlock had done so sooner so he could have seen the look of utter defeat on his uncle's face when he realizes he had lost. 

\-----

Merlin staggers back as a large blast of magic is released from the broken staff. The two halves fall to the floor in a useless heap, the ancient magic having been drained when it shattered. The warlock pauses for a moment, trying to sense the dark magic that had been flooding the room when he entered and when he finds none he lets out a breath of relief. Yet, despite his victory, he can't help but feel uneasy. He should be happy, overjoyed really, but there had been something strange about the entire thing. Something that his mind refused to forget.

When he first approached the crumbling palace he had been unsure whether or not he could complete the task, especially after the dragon's warning about Morgana, and so he had entered the castle with extreme caution. Soon though he found it entirely unnecessary. There were little to no guards in the entire palace and even when he reached the staff he discovered only two Saxons protecting it. Everything from entering the citadel to finding the staff had felt too... easy, as though they wanted him to find it. There were few guards around and the ones that were present were simple to take out. Morgana had been no where in sight during his entire trek through the large fortress and though he could mark that off as her growing arrogant, or himself being lucky, he doubted she would be this stupid. 

He continues to stare at the broken staff for another moment, trying to piece together the strangeness of the situation, but when he's unable to find an answer he turns to leave. He might as well think it over once he returns to Camelot and is in the safety of his king's arms. He smiles at the thought of Arthur, hoping that the prat is alright. 

Just as he's about to leave the room the iron gate suddenly slams shut in front of him. He grabs at the bars, pulling at them in an attempt to dislodge it but the door doesn't budge. He frowns and mutters a spell then tugs again. It remains still. 

A giggle echoes across the room as he hears footsteps approach him from behind. He turns, pressing his back against the iron gate as he sees the witch from his nightmares appear before him. She smiles at him sweetly, looking exactly the same as she had back in Ealdor. A number of burly men wait behind her, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords as they watch the predator stalk towards its prey. 


	24. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

As the last of the Saxons run from the city shouts of joy start to erupt from the crowd. Some knights pat their friends on the back at a job well done, already planning a trip to the tavern while others mourn for their fallen comrades, holding their limp bodies in despair. 

The king himself is tackled into a hug by his friend, or by Gwaine to be exact, who is quickly pried off by an irritated Percival. Leon, Lancelot, and Elyan appear a moment later, all looking relatively unharmed much to Arthur's relief.

"Are you injured my lord?" Leon asks, always the concerned one. 

Arthur gives him a smile. "I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about." 

Gwaine pokes his head in between the conversation, a wide grin on his face as he leans in close to Arthur, making the latter rather uncomfortable at the close proximity. "I heard from Leon," he says with a grin. 

Arthur shuffles back, trying to place some distance between them. He raises an eyebrow at the knight's odd words. "Heard what?"

"You," he emphasizes the word by jabbing a finger to the king's chest, "kissed Merlin on the battlements."

Immediately, Arthur's face flushes red at the words. He looks away, not wanting to see the amused grin on Gwaine's face, but no matter where he tries to look all he can see is his friends faces breaking into grins. "Did not."

"Now, now, Arthur," Elyan says, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "No need to lie. We have a witness after all," he points towards Leon. 

Arthur frowns, sending the man a death glare. Leon quickly averts his gaze, trying to act as innocent as possible. 

Gwaine soon joins in beside Elyan, wrapping an arm around Arthur's other shoulder. "See, we understand if you love him mate, but was there really a need to fake his death? Quite selfish of you to try and hide him all to yourself."

Arthur flushes again at the accusation, his embarrassment growing even stronger when he hears Percival and Lancelot trying to cover their snickers. "That's not why we faked his death! There was Agravaine and Morgana and-" 

His explanation is cut off by Gwaine shoving a finger against his lips. The man smirks at him again, "No need to make excuses, princess. We won't tell a soul what really happened."

Elyan starts to laugh beside him and Arthur quickly pries the two knights off his shoulders. He turns away, still covering his face with a hand as he looks to Leon. "What's the status?"

Leon clears his throat, wiping the grin off his face as he returns to seriousness. "As of now the fires appear to have been put out through most of the lower town. There was not much significant damage other than the areas around the immediate vicinity of the citadel and city gates. Though there are plenty of injured knights, civilian casualties are minimal as very few of the skeletons and Saxons had managed to breach the castle."

Arthur gives a nod. "Good, then see that the injured are treated. Send any knights that are able to work to begin rebuilding as soon as possible."

"Yes sire." With that the knights disperse, moving out to complete their various tasks and leaving the king alone.

Arthur sighs, slumping down on a nearby crate and finally giving his body a chance to rest. He looks at the scene around him, pained at the amount of destruction yet happy that it hadn't been as bad as it could have been. After all, Morgana could be on the throne right now. 

He glances towards the open gates, waiting to see a familiar lithe figure walking into the city but it never appears. With another sigh he gets to his feet, rubbing at his temples as he tries to calm his overly active mind. Merlin will be fine. He'll come home as he said he would. 

Arthur continues to repeat the mantra in his head as he heads towards the castle, hoping to distract himself with business as he waits for his idiot to return.

\-----

Arthur heads out early the next morning, claiming to be overseeing the lower town's reconstruction, but ends up spending the entire day sitting by the gates. The workers all pass him by with curious glances though none are brave enough to question their king so they leave him be. Arthur pays them no mind either, choosing instead to keep his gaze locked on what lies beyond the gate. Gwen finds him there later that afternoon, still staring out into oblivion. She approaches him cautiously, wondering what could have gotten into the man. When she's close enough she leans down in front of him, poking his forehead to catch his attention. "How's the construction going?" she asks with a smile. 

Arthur turns to glance at her then looks away just as quickly. "It's fine," he replies, hands reaching down to fiddle with a blade of grass.

Gwen follows his gaze before heaving a sigh. "You're waiting for Merlin, aren't you?" She asks, having heard about what happened with the boy from Lancelot the previous day. She had to admit, she was surprised to hear the news. She had watched the boy die with her own eyes and suddenly, he's back as though nothing had happened. At first, she felt betrayed at having not been told about the king and warlock's ruse, but eventually, the sheer happiness from the fact that Merlin was alive overpowered that negative feeling. She had wanted nothing more than to run up to hug the boy and would have had Lancelot not stopped her, explaining how he was currently still out probably facing Morgana. The sheer thought of her previous master sent an uncomfortable feeling to her gut and the idea that Merlin could possibly be fighting her at that moment only made the feeling worse. She could understand Arthur's worry, she was worried too after all, though sitting around and doing nothing was not going to help. 

Arthur sighs, finally turning to face Gwen as he tosses the piece of grass away. "He should be back by now. Something must have happened," Arthur stands, already heading towards the citadel, "I'm going to go search for him."

Gwen turns to follow, expression filled with worry as the king starts to make his way through the lower town. The man has already ordered the stable boy to prepare a horse by the time the she catches him. "Arthur, it's dangerous! Morgana could still be out there!"

"And that's precisely why I need to go find him."

Gwen grabs the king's arm, successfully forcing him to stop and spinning him around so that he's facing her. "And you're planning on doing this alone? What if something happens to you?" 

"I can't just leave him!" Arthur is furious now, the look in his eyes forcing Gwen to let go and take a step back. "I almost lost him once before and I'm not going to allow that to happen again."

Gwen sighs. "I'm not telling you to leave him. I'm telling you not to go alone."

Arthur seems to calm down, feeling slightly ashamed at his outburst. "The knights are needed here. I can't be sending them out on-"

"Nonsense," Gwaine suddenly says, popping out from behind the king, "if it's to search for Merlin I think we can spare a few men."

Arthur turns around, finding Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Lancelot all walking up to him. "I'm sure Camelot will be fine missing just the six of us," Lancelot adds.

"I can speak with Sir Galahad. Let him know what to do in our absence. There is nothing to worry about, sire," Leon says with a smile.

Arthur looks between his friends, seeing all of them with wide grins of reassurance on their faces. He sighs to himself more out of exasperation than anything. He knows full well how stubborn they can be and sees no point in arguing with them. Besides, they're only worried about Merlin. He's their friend too after all. "Alright, then we'll head out in an hour. Gather enough provisions for at least a few days. We won't know how long we'll be searching for."

"Yes, sire!"

\-----

Arthur's about to mount his horse when he hears footsteps run up behind him. He turns to find Merlin's friend, Will, standing behind him with a bag and sword in his hands. "I'm coming with you," he says.

Arthur walks over to him, glancing towards his knights who all shake their heads in disapproval. "No, you're staying here. It's too dangerous," he says, trying to use his most commanding voice. 

Will grows furious at the response. He takes a step closer to the king, trying to intimidate the man as he shouts, "He's my best friend! I'm not about to leave him behind because it's too dangerous!"

Arthur sighs, "We'll bring him back. You have nothing to worry about."

Will scoffs at him. "Like I'm going to leave him in your hands. Last I remember you tried to kill him."

The king stiffens, looking away in guilt momentarily before turning back. "I won't harm him."

Again, Will doesn't seem to believe his words. He sneers at the king, clearly not satisfied with his answer, "You've already hurt him plenty. He wouldn't even be in this situation had you not shown your ugly mug in Ealdor."

Arthur turns his gaze down to the ground, knowing that Will is right. He did put Merlin in this situation. Had he not decided to go to Ealdor then Morgana would never have found out and attacked. Ealdor wouldn't have been destroyed and Merlin would be in his home, safe and sound with his mother. Instead, he's thrown him into his world. A world filled with war and bloodshed. 

Arthur takes in a deep breath, pushing the guilt away long to force himself to speak. "I know, and that's why I can't let you go. You'll only hurt him more if you get yourself killed. I will bring him back, I promise."

The scowl remains on Will's face, but his gaze seems to soften.

"Trust me, I won't allow anything to happen to him," he says, hoping he sounds sincere. 

Will eyes him again then eventually sighs. "You better hold to that promise."

Arthur smiles and gives a nod. With one last glare Will turns and walks away, heading towards the physician's chambers to help out Gaius. 

The king returns to mounting his horse. He gets himself comfortable before turning to look towards his knights. Leon is already ready and waiting as usual. Percival seems to be helping Gwaine calm his horse as Elyan shakes his head in disappointment while he climbs onto his own. Lancelot is mounting his horse now as well after having given Gwen a small kiss on the cheek in farewell. 

When they're all ready Arthur turns his horse towards the gates and with a click of his tongue they head out into the forest. 

\------

The moon is already up high in the sky by the time the ruined castle comes into Arthur's view. He stops his horse in a small clearing, eyes trailing the tracks they've been following since they entered the forest and judging by the direction they seem to be going, it seems the palace will be their destination.

His knights come up behind him, all eyes pointed towards the castle in the distance. "That's the place huh," Gwaine states.

"Seems so. A deserted castle would be the perfect place to hide an army. I don't doubt Morgana is in there," Arthur says, already preparing to head towards the citadel when he hears Leon speak up from behind him.

"Are you sure this is wise?" the knight says, his brows scrunched, "There could be a trap. The trail leading here was much too easy to find. Almost as if-"

"-it were planted on purpose for us to follow," Elyan finishes, "I think Leon's right, sire. It's almost certainly a trap."

Arthur turns his horse around to face the group, seeing the others nodding in agreement. He doesn't doubt their words, after all it was the first thing he considered when they found the trail. Morgana is, and has always been, careful. She's only ever found when she wants to be. For her to leave such an obvious trail means that she wants them to find her and if she wants to be found then that must mean she has something planned. "I know its a trap," Arthur says, "but I'm not going to abandon Merlin because of it. We'll be cautious and if anything happens we'll retreat and regroup here."

The others nod in agreement as none are willing to leave Merlin either and if they have to face Morgana's trap to save him then so be it. Arthur flashes them all a smile then turns his horse around, heading through the forest and towards the castle.


	25. Two Sides of the Same Coin

The group stops in front of the castle, staring up at the crumbling structure. Much of the palace's walls are falling apart, leaving the grass surrounding the area crushed under the rubble. Almost all the windows are shattered beyond repair and out of the five towers that seemed to have originally stood only one is still intact. The place looks to be deserted and they would have thought as such if not for the footsteps leading in and out of the entrance. 

Arthur looks to his men and when he sees them give him a nod he continues forward into the castle. They arrive in a large, central chamber. The room is empty save for the dust motes floating about in the air. Rocks are covering the ground from the collapsed ceiling and shards of glass are piled below the windows. A staircase leads up to the second floor in one corner while various corridors branch out on the main floor, leading to who knows where. 

Arthur shifts his gaze between the different paths, trying to find clues as to where Merlin could be, but all he sees are footprints in the dust leading in all directions. He heaves a sigh, turning again to face his friends. "We'll have to split up. It'll take too long if we search all together," Arthur says.

Lancelot nods in agreement as he looks around the large room. "Indeed, Merlin may be dead by then. What do you want us to do when someone finds him?" 

Arthur glances up to the sky, trying to calculate when sunrise would be. At most he would bet they have a few more hours. "If you're able to save him alone then do so and wait outside where we left the horses. We'll all meet up there at first light. If you're not able to save him then meet at the same spot and we'll go in together. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire," Lancelot says, prompting a few nods from the others in the room. 

Arthur turns to look at the chamber again, counting four areas to search. He splits the group up, sending Gwaine to the right, Lancelot to the left, Percival and Leon up to the second floor, then lastly Elyan and himself down the centre. He would have preferred to send the blacksmith with Gwaine, for they all know the drunk can get sidetracked easily, but the others had opposed the idea of him wandering Morgana's castle alone and opted for Elyan to go with him in case something happened. He didn't argue, after all he wanted to start searching for Merlin as soon as he could, and so decided to let it be. 

Together, he and Elyan approach the central door. He pushes it open with a grunt, causing the hinges to screech in protest. They enter the hall to find more doors lining the walls on either side before the corridor seems to branch off in two directions. Arthur sighs and opens the closest door to begin their search.

\-----

Arthur shuts the door angrily, frustrated that he still has yet to find Merlin or anything of use even after a few hours of combing the area. The rooms he searches are almost always barren. If he does find anything it's only ever a chair or a table. 

He groans as he opens the door to find another empty room. He curses under his breath and storms down the hall, wondering how Elyan was faring after they had to split up as well in order to cover more space. 

He's just about to round the corner when two guards catch his eye. He stops abruptly, pressing his back against the wall and peering out from around the corner. A pair of Saxons stand guard outside what Arthur assumes to be either the council chambers or the throne room given the fancy door. The men hold spears aloft in their hands and are scanning the vicinity, eyes focused on the task. 

He's almost sure Morgana is on the other side. He considers waiting until first light so he can gather his knights, but the cry of pain coming from the other side of the door makes him give up on the idea entirely.

He pulls his sword from its sheath and charges the men. His sudden appearance startles the guards, allowing him to run his blade though the closest Saxon without any struggle. Unfortunately, he's unable to do the same with the second man. The guard pulls out his sword as well, scowling at the sight of his dead comrade and charges. 

Arthur makes quick work of the second Saxon. He ducks out of the way and slashes his sword downwards, successfully slicing the man across the chest. The guard crumples to the floor, gasping for breath as he struggles to remain conscious. Arthur brings his blade down on the dying man, making his end quick before proceeding to the entrance of the room. 

He pushes open the double doors and almost the moment he crosses the threshold they slam shut behind him. He pulls on the handles, tugging at them only to find that it won't budge. He sighs, turns around, and is greeted by the sight of Morgana seated on a stone throne. She smirks at him when she notices his gaze, the smug smile growing as she watches his eyes trail to the slim figure lying on the floor. 

Arthur stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing as he watches the body heave up and down with each breath. He knows it's Merlin on the ground, dying at Morgana's feet because he allowed the idiot to run off and save the kingdom on his own. He knew he should have stopped him, knew he should have at least gone with him. And now he's going to pay the price.

"Oh, Arthur," Morgana coos as she stands from her throne, "how are you? I missed you, dear brother."

Arthur keeps his eyes locked on Merlin, making sure to keep his expression neutral despite the growing anger in his gut. "Let him go," he says, surprised at the steadiness in his voice, "You have me now. You don't need him anymore."

Morgana chuckles, bending down before grabbing a fistful of Merlin's hair. "Oh, but I do," she says and yanks him upright, making the boy wince in pain at the sudden movement. The warlock's gaze flits towards Arthur's, seeming to send a silent plea for him to go. 

The king, of course, refuses to listen. His grip tightens on his sword, ready to charge when the weapon is suddenly knocked from his hand. It skids across the room, stopping only after it hits the wall. Before he's even able to decide what to do next two burly men grab each of his arms, manhandling him down onto his knees and holding him there.  

Arthur growls low in his throat, glaring daggers at Morgana whose eyes are just fading back to its original green colour. She smirks at him, proud to have defeated the king with such ease. She tuts at him, expression mocking as she gestures for the men to pull him forward. "Brash as always. Some people just don't change do they," she says.

Arthur glares as he's dropped before the witch, again being held down by the two men beside him. They've placed him directly in front of Merlin and he has to hold himself back from charging into a futile fight after he observes the state of his servant. The warlock's clothes are almost covered in blood from the blossoming wound in his side and there appears to be a nasty cut on his forehead. He's breathing heavily as though every breath hurt him and he seems to be barely drifting on the edge of consciousness though apparently he's awake enough to roll his eyes at him after witnessing his futile attempt at saving him. 

Arthur turns his attention back to Morgana, when she chuckles, bending down to caress a finger down Merlin's cheek as a coin appears in her hand. "How about we play a game, like old times," she says, eyes flitting towards the king with a devilish smirk before roughly throwing Merlin back down on the ground. 

The warlock groans as his wounds are jostled, making him turn and curl into his side. Arthur lurches forward, wanting nothing more than to help but the men are still holding him back. 

Morgana laughs at the sight of the king's desperation. She bends down, holding the coin up in front of him and showing the two sides. One depicts the image of the king while the other of his warlock. "I'll flip this coin," she says, twirling the gold between her fingers, "and whoever is face up lives. Whoever is face down, however," she smirks, "dies." 

Arthur grits his teeth, trying to find some way, any way, out of this situation. He's already considered outright attacking her, but clearly he can't win without a weapon. He's also outnumbered and judging by Merlin's condition he doubts he'll be able to get much help from the warlock. The only thing he can think of is to buy time, wait for an opportunity. His only choice is to play Morgana's game. 

"If we're going to play this game then it's going to be fair. No magic," he growls, hating that he has to agree and potentially risk Merlin's life, but he supposes a chance to save him is better than no chance at all.

"Agreed," Morgana says and stands. She holds the coin up, giving the king one last smirk before flipping it into the air. 

Arthur tenses as he watches the coin spin, feeling as though time has gone to a stand still. The only he thing he can hear is the sharp shrill of the wind blowing past the coin as it dances through the air and the loud beating of his own heart. He holds his breath as the coin falls, still spinning, before clattering onto the floor. It bounces once on the stone then rolls across the surface. Arthur shifts his attention towards Morgana, making sure she held to her promise of no magic before turning his eyes back on the coin, though he ensures the witch is visible within his sights. 

The shilling soon slows, losing its momentum and starts to tilt towards the floor. Arthur swallows, watching as the coin falls to the side, clattering on the ground until it finally grows still. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanted to say that the whole coin flipping idea came from another one of BBC's shows called 'The Musketeers' (S2 EP6). I did change it as the rules of the game isn't entirely the same, but I figured I should mention this isn't wholly my idea. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, and giving this story a kudo!


	26. The King's Guardian

Arthur...

That's the first thought in Elyan's head when the loud slam from the doors reach his ears. He turns around, bolting the way he came. He needs to find the king. Something could have happened to him, or worse Morgana could have found him. His eyes darken at the thought of the witch and he picks up his pace.

When he reaches the fork in the hall he turns down the path Arthur had taken. He keeps his eyes peeled, scanning for any signs of where his friend could be. He doesn't see anything of interest, only closed doors and empty rooms. He wants to call out to the king, but is afraid of alerting the enemy to his presence. It would be safer if they didn't know he's here. 

He comes to a skittering halt as he rounds the corner at the end of the hall. On the floor in front of him are two guards, both dead from a blow to their chests. Arthur must have passed by. 

He makes sure to step over the bodies before walking towards the double doors behind them. He leans in close to the wood, pressing his ear against it. He hears voices on the other side, but he can't determine what they're saying or who's speaking. He thinks he hears a woman's voice and he's sure he can say quite confidently that must be Morgana, but again he might be wrong. 

He tries the handle and the door jiggles, but unfortunately it remains shut. He tries pushing on it with his shoulder and again it refuses to budge. Now, he's sure Arthur's in there and most likely with Morgana as well, maybe even Merlin is on the other side. 

He tries numerous times to open the door, but every attempt always ends with the same result. Sometimes, he wishes he had Percival's muscles. He's sure the larger knight would have broken down the door already. 

Elyan sighs and slumps against the wall, wondering what he should do now. His only choices seem to be either break down the door or find another way in and he's already seen how well the first option has worked. He sighs again and glances to a nearby window, seeing glimpses of dawn. Perhaps he can wait for the others, they may have another idea of what they can do. If all else fails they can always get Percival to break the door. With that plan in mind he hurries down the hall, hoping Arthur will be able to hold out long enough for them to arrive.

\-----

Merlin lets out a cry of pain as Morgana drives the blade though his side. He collapses to the floor, hand gripping at the wound to stop the blood from flowing out. His vision starts to blur, the pain overwhelming almost all his senses. He can't hear, he can't see, he can't think. All he can feel is the burning pain in his gut. 

He doesn't know what Morgana's planning. She had locked him in a cell for, what he can guess to be, a day before suddenly pulling him out and throwing him here. She only questioned him at first, asking him why he was loyal to Arthur before offering him a job as her right hand. He had spat at her feet at the question which, as he thinks back to it now was probably not the best idea, had only prompted her to grow irritated with him. That's when she seemed to decide cutting him into pieces was a better idea. 

He grips the wound, trying to muster up the strength to use his magic but he can't concentrate long enough before the pain suddenly flares up. He tries again, focusing all his attention on the soft thrum of energy in his veins only to be jostled back into reality by a sharp kick to his stomach. He collapses back to the ground, all concentration lost. He can't even keep his head up anymore without feeling his consciousness start to slip. The loss of blood is ebbing away at his strength, making him feel weaker and weaker with each passing moment. He struggles to breathe as each breath sends a stab of pain though his side. He wants to pass out, let the darkness envelop him because then at least everything will stop hurting. The only thing that stops him from succumbing to the pain is the sound of a door slamming shut. He wonders what's happening, being able to faintly make out Morgana speaking. He turns his head, squinting his eyes to try and see what's happening, but not being able to make out anything due to the black spots dancing in his vision.

He suddenly feels a hand run through his hair, not tenderly as Arthur does, but rough and fierce. The hand gives a strong tug and he's suddenly forced upright. He winces, biting his tongue to stop the shout that wants to come out. He opens his eyes, seeing a blurred figure standing a short distance away; a figure with blond hair and a red cape. Merlin sighs at the sight. Of course it's Arthur that decides to charge into Morgana's home without even a proper plan. He tries telling him to go, to run and leave him here, but clearly Arthur won't listen. 

He wonders if the king even realizes there are two men coming up behind him, but when the idiot starts to charge and gets held down by the two Saxons he knows the answer must have been no. Arthur's dropped down in front of him on his knees, and he can just see the snarl on his face. He rolls his eyes at the king, trying to convey his annoyance as best he can while fighting to stay awake.

A moment later he feels a cold finger trail down his cheek. He instinctively lurches back but the hand in his hair holds him firmly in place. He hears Morgana say something, something about a game before suddenly being thrust down onto the floor. He groans, curling in on himself as the pain becomes unbearable. His vision darkens at the edges, the void coaxing him in, but he holds on. He can't go. Not yet. He needs to make sure Arthur gets out of here alive first. 

He concentrates on his breathing, trying to push the pain away to the back of his mind so he can listen to their conversation, hoping to piece together what Morgana is planning. He catches a glimpse of her holding up a coin in her hands, showing the two sides. There's Arthur on one and himself on the other. The sight makes him frown. What could she be planning?

He concentrates on Morgana's voice, again trying to discern what she's saying through the incessant pounding in his head. Fortunately, he manages to make out a few words and what he hears makes his blood run cold. A game. Where one of them will live and the other will die. 

He looks to Arthur, seeing the cold stare and the reluctance in his eyes, but Morgana has them backed into a corner. Neither of them have any choice. There's some more faint muttering, but by then he's no longer paying attention. He can't let Arthur die. He just can't. 

Then, Morgana lifts up a hand, showing the coin perched atop her thumb before flicking it upwards.

Pushing the pain from his mind, he focuses all his attention on the piece of gold spinning through the air. His eyes follow it, watching each turn carefully, trying to calculate which side it will land on. 

The burning in his gut continues to beckon him forward through it all, just waiting for his concentration to slip so it can swoop in and pull him under. Had he been in any other situation perhaps it would have won, but the threat on Arthur's life anchors him down. He holds firm, keeping his eyes trained on the coin as it starts to lose altitude. He needs to be ready. 

The coin bounces on the stone, managing to land on its side and starts to roll. At this chance the warlock pulls at his magic causing his breathing to grow heavier than before at the effort. His vision starts to blur, black spots dancing in and out of sight. The pain flares up, trying to force his attention away from casting the spell, but fortunately for him, it's too late. His eyes glow gold and the coin starts to sway on its edge, tilting towards one direction. It clatters down onto the stone, until finally it rests still on the ground. 

He sucks in a ragged breath, trying to replenish the energy he lost from casting the spell. The spots slowly disappear as he finally rests and he can see more clearly again. His eyes trail to Arthur and the look on the king's face shatters his heart into pieces. Yet, he doesn't regret what he did because to him Arthur's life is more important than anything else. Even his own. 

\-----

The first thought in Arthur's head as he stares at the coin now lying still on the floor is that fate is a cruel thing. It's always tempting, showing the object of a person's desire and allowing it to drift ever so close but never close enough. Even when the person has reached out and grabbed that dream fate still finds a way to wrench it from their grip, flaunting the very thing they lost in front of their eyes like a trophy. He had once thought that perhaps destiny had finally decided to give him a happy ending. Not only had he found a way to stop Morgana, but perhaps even found the love of his life and all of it was because he had run into a certain big eared idiot in the woods one fateful day. How foolish he was. Doesn't everyone always betray him in the end? Why would fate have been any different?

Morgana giggles in amusement at the pained expression on the king's face. She walks forward, bending down to pick up the coin from the floor. "Well, it seems you get to live another day," she says with a cruel smirk.

His shoulders sag, not from relief, but rather from the emptiness in his chest. He feels as though nothing has meaning anymore - like the colour has been drained from the world, taking all the life along with it. 

He looks towards Merlin, expecting to find anger in the warlock's eyes, maybe even sadness, but that's not what he sees. What he sees is the boy giving him a weak smile, as though he forgives him for everything. Forgives him for gambling his life. He doesn't know how or why Merlin can still smile like that. There's no bright side to this situation. No favourable outcome for either of them. They've lost.

Morgana turns around, a cruel smile on her face as she regards the crippled boy. She raises a hand before saying, "Any last words?"

Merlin says nothing. Whether it's because he's unable to or simply doesn't want to is a mystery to the king. 

Morgana doesn't seem to care. She mutters a word in a language that Arthur doesn't recognize before her eyes glow gold. A trail of fire slithers its way across the floor from the witch's feet. It heads straight towards Merlin.

Arthur thrashes in the man's grip, trying to launch himself forward to his servant's side, but of course, the men manage to keep him down. He cries out Merlin's name, calls for him desperately as though that would somehow do any good. He looks to Morgana, eyes pleading, hoping that maybe she has just a single shred of goodness left in her. She only glances towards him slyly, sending him a pleased smirk before turning her attention back to the dying warlock with eyes alight in amusement. 


	27. His Doom...?

When Elyan arrives back outside the castle the sun has already started to rise. His jog turns into a sprint as he dashes through the forest to the clearing where they had left their horses, knowing that time is not a luxury they have. 

He finds four figures standing around the stallions, all muttering in hushed voices amongst themselves while sending quick glances around them. There's a nervous air around the group, a feeling of dread as they wait patiently for their friends and king. 

Leon is the first to spot Elyan coming out of the trees. He smiles and raises a hand, about to wave in greeting when he realizes Arthur is not following behind the knight. His smile drops, expression turning grave as he walks over to the man to hand him a water skin. The others follow after him, regarding Elyan with curiosity as they each try to figure out what could have gone wrong.

Elyan takes a long drink before speaking, "Morgana has Arthur. I know where they are, but I can't get in. We need a plan," he says rapidly, hardly bothering to stop and take a breath between his words. 

"Calm down," Lancelot says, "Tell us what happened first."

"We-"

"There's no need for that," Gwaine says suddenly with a snarl, his tone laced with anger, "Didn't you hear? Morgana has Arthur. That's all we need to know. I say we just go in there and break him out." He starts striding towards the castle, though he only makes it a few steps before Percival suddenly pulls him back. 

"We can't barge in and attack. This is Morgana not some thugs in a tavern," he says. 

Gwaine scoffs and shakes off the man's hold, but doesn't argue back. 

Percival sighs, turning back to Elyan and gesturing for him to continue. The man recounts what happened between the time they last met and now. It's a quick explanation as nothing much had happened, but the more he talks the more impatient he grows. Who knows what could be happening to Arthur right now? And Merlin?

When he finally finishes the others are silent, all deep in thought as to their next course of action. Elyan takes another drink from the water skin, trying to come up with a plan himself. "Perhaps..." he begins, "there's another entrance somewhere. We could try and find it and sneak in from there."

"Wouldn't breaking down the door you found be quicker? Searching for another entrance that we don't know even exists will waste time," Gwaine says, clearly agitated as he's pacing along the grass.

Leon considers both ideas for a moment. He knows the others are looking at him for leadership now that Arthur's gone. He's the oldest and the one who has been by Arthur's side the longest. The choice is up to him and it can mean life or death for their king. After another few moments he makes his decision, "I think Gwaine is right on one thing. We don't have the luxury of taking our time. We need to get to Arthur and the fastest way there is through the entrance we already know of."

Gwaine smiles, happy that a decision has finally been made and starts to head towards the castle once more. "Then let's go."

\------

Merlin reels back as the fire starts to circle around him. First, they're only small embers. Nothing dangerous. But in a heart beat the fire leaps up, growing in height until its as tall as a fully grown man. He tries to crawl away, but the flames seem to have a life of its own. The circle of fire begins to shrink around him, getting closer and closer until he can feel the heat against all parts of his body. He has to force himself into a sitting position despite the pain just to keep away from the flames, but he knows it'll catch him eventually. There's no way to escape the pyre this time it seems. 

Arthur calls out to him again, his voice growing more hoarse with each yell. To Merlin though it sounds like a muffled scream as the crackling of the flames around him drown out almost all other noise. He's just able to see Arthur through the fire and the sight of the man unharmed helps to calm his racing heart. He protected his king. That's all that matters to him. 

He shuts his eyes, ready to allow the fire to consume him when, suddenly, the door is kicked open. "Sire!" A loud shout echoes around the room while knights clad in red storm through the doors, making as much noise as possible to draw everyone's attention. All heads turn in their direction and seeing his chance Arthur shakes himself free from the men's hold. He punches the man to his right, successfully knocking him backwards before turning to the man on his left and grabbing the sword from the mercenary's belt. He pulls it free and with one quick slash the Saxon crumbles to the ground. 

Morgana grits her teeth, seething with anger as her entire plan falls apart. Arthur starts advancing on her, his knights only a short distance behind. His eyes are glowing with rage and with one swift movement he has the blade pointed at the witch's throat. "It's over Morgana," he says with confidence, chin held high, "Give it up. Let Merlin go."

His knights come up behind him, forming a half circle around them with their weapons raised. Morgana glances around, sizing up her enemy before a cruel smile appears on her face. With a flash of gold they're all blown backwards in various directions. Morgana grins, stalking towards the king with sure steps, her heels clicking loudly through the chamber. 

"Arthur!" Merlin shouts when he sees the king slumped on the floor, a trickle of blood on his head. He needs to do something, anything. He can't just sit here and let Arthur die!

He looks around, trying to find something that he can use. Thankfully, the flames have slowed their progress now that Morgana is distracted, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He continues to scan the room and that's when something catches the corner of his eye. He turns, staring at the shining metal on the ground a short distance away. It's Arthur's sword, the one Kilgharrah had made. 

He looks to Morgana, seeing her back turned away from him and takes the chance. He lifts up a hand, concentrating as hard as he can to force the blade towards her. His eyes glow gold, but the light flickers away almost as quickly as it had appeared. He curses when the sword only twitches slightly in place, hardly moving at all. One more time. Just one more time. He focuses even harder, trying to pour all his energy into making the blade attack, but no matter what he does the weapon refuses to move with enough force. It only skids slowly across the floor, not moving even remotely fast enough to cause damage to anything. With a last change of plan he switches the direction of the weapon's travel. It spins jerkily around until the hilt is facing towards his outstretched hand, then it starts to skitter across the floor. Thankfully, the blade manages to make it within arms reach before its life is suddenly drained. Merlin grabs the hilt and pulls the weapon closer towards him before almost collapsing, but this time he manages to catch himself. He takes in slow, deep breaths, trying to force away the black spots dancing across his eyes. When he doesn't feel like fainting as much anymore he turns to face the flames. The fire roars in front of him, seeming to call his name in devilish cackles. He calls for his magic again, desperately hoping he has just enough to smother the flames momentarily, but nothing answers him. He's too tired, too drained to use his magic. He looks to the fire again, feeling the searing heat he's feared so much as a child. But he has to do this. If he doesn't then Arthur will...

Slowly, he staggers to his feet and almost instantly he feels nauseous. The world spins around him and he wants to throw up, but he manages to pull himself together. With one hand gripping his wound and the other using the sword as a crutch he moves forward towards the flames. 

In any normal circumstance he could have dashed through the ring of fire with little problem, but the wound in his side restricts his movements and thus reduces him to a much slower pace. Because of this the pain is unbearable. The flames lick at his legs, leaping onto his trousers and burning a hole to the skin underneath. He winces, feeling the fire crawl up his sleeves. The pain makes him want to collapse, makes him want to curl up on the ground and sleep so it'll all go away. He's almost tempted to, but he holds on, grasping onto the slimmer of light on the other side. 

He staggers through the fire, panting and in pain. Looking up he sees Morgana a short distance away from him. The knights are getting to their feet across the room, hoisting their weapons up and ready to attack but he knows they won't make it in time. 

He moves up behind her quietly and pulls the sword back. He hesitates at first, not ready to kill someone. Killing is bad. Isn't that what his mother always taught him? But with one look at Morgana he knows he has to do it. If he doesn't they'll all burn just like the people of Ealdor. 

So, with the last of his strength, he thrusts the blade forward. He hears the sickening sound of the weapon piercing his target, hears the gasp from Morgana as she realizes what has happened. She turns her head around, eyes wide in fear and horror at the sight of him with a blade up her back. Then, her eyes roll up into the back of her head and she drops, falling to the floor with a thud.

Merlin's hands loosen around the hilt of the weapon as her body crumbles to the ground having lost all the energy left in him. He looks to Arthur, seeing the shock on the king's face before his eyes start to close and he collapses to the floor, lying just as still and silent as the witch beside him. 

\-----

Arthur only realizes his mistake of trying to corner an all powerful witch when he's thrown backwards onto the floor. The air is knocked out of his lungs from the force of the impact and he can feel a trickle of blood trail down his temple after his head smashes against the floor. The ceiling appears to be spinning above him as he tries to catch his breath and the sight only makes him feel even worse than before. His head pounds in his skull with each thud sending a jolt of pain through him. He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to do anything but lie there and rest. 

Of course, nothing in his life is ever that easy. The muffled clicking of heels sends his attention back onto the threat at hand. He groans as he tries to sit up, using one arm to lift himself into an upright position. He leans heavily on his elbow as he watches Morgana approach, trying to think of anything he can do. His sword was knocked out of his hand when he was sent spiralling and his knights are too far away to help even if they could. He's out of options and this time his friends won't be able to come in to save the day. 

He tries to shuffle backwards and away from Morgana, but at the pace he's moving he might as well have sat still and saved his energy. His sister stops in front of him, grinning widely as she seems to take in his helpless state. Her mouth starts to move, apparently chanting a spell and Arthur prepares to brace himself for whatever is to come but a shadow behind her catches his attention. He stares at the slumped figure looming up behind her, a shining weapon in hand. He sees the sword being pulled back and the next thing he knows the blades tip is protruding from his sister's chest. 

Morgana gasps, seeming just as shocked as the king is. She turns to look behind her, eyes wide with fear before dropping dead onto the floor. 

Arthur continues to stare even after she falls except not at her, but rather at the man who killed her. Merlin stands in front of him now with injuries covering his whole body. There's the sword wound from earlier, the blood having turned much of the tunic a darker red. New burns now wrap around his legs, spreading upwards onto his lower torso. He doesn't know how Merlin can possibly still stand, but as soon as the thought enters his mind he sees the servant start to sway on his feet. His eyes start to close and the next thing he knows Merlin has collapsed onto the floor.


	28. A Mother's Love

 

All he hears is the pounding of hooves and the whistle from the wind as they race across the kingdom. His body rocks from each gallop of the horse, but a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders helps to keep him grounded. His head rests against the figure's shoulder and the heat from the man's body warms his insides. He tries to open his eyes, tries to get a quick peek at the man holding him so closely, so tenderly, but the moment he tries his head spins. He grows tired, suddenly feeling the urge to sleep again. Just a little more. He'll sleep for just a little longer. 

\---- 

Arthur spurs on his horse, pushing the stallion to its absolute limit as they race towards the citadel. He can tell the creatures growing tired with the mad pace, but he can't slow down - not even for a moment. He'll make sure the stable boy gives it the best treatment once they arrive back home. 

The castle has just come into view when he feels Merlin stir in his arms. He risks a glance down, his heart lifting with hope when he notices the warlock's eyelids start to flutter. "Merlin?" He calls. 

There's a quiet groan in response before the servant's head lulls back against his shoulder, seeming to fall back into unconsciousness. Growing desperate once again he gives the boy's shoulder a gentle shake. "Merlin? Wake up," he says. 

This time he's only met with silence. He scowls, angry at everything. At himself, at Morgana, at his uncle, everything. Merlin didn't deserve any of this. He shouldn't have had to go through all that pain. If anyone, it should have been him that was hurt...

He sighs, turning his attention back to riding. At least he knows Merlin is still alive... for now. That's better than nothing he supposes. With another kick, his horse barrels forward through the trees. 

\----

By the time they pass through the half-built gates the town is already awake and thriving with life. Workers and knights are scattered across the city either on the roofs of buildings or down on the ground carrying pieces of timber. The sound of hammers pounding away fill the air all around so that no matter where one went they could never escape the noise. 

A small smile manages to cross the king's face when he sees the people working hard with wide grins despite the recent attacks. The liveliness helps to boost his spirits though only just. With one look down to the warlock in his arms the feeling of dread returns. Merlin has hardly moved at all since the last time he woke and from what he can tell the boy is only getting worse. His breathing is shallow and he seems far paler than usual. They need to get to Gaius and fast. 

Arthur urges his horse onwards one last time, giving it a small pat of apology as they race through the lower town. The first person to greet them once they enter the courtyard is Gwen, who's dashing down the steps with relief. One look at Merlin though and the girl's face darkens. Her expression turns grave before turning around and sprinting towards the physician's chambers, already knowing what to do without needing to be told. 

Percival is the first to get off his horse, quickly moving to help carry Merlin as Arthur lowers him down. Elyan runs off after his sister, going to assist Gaius with gathering whatever he may need. Leon, though reluctant to go, heads into the castle to check on the kingdoms welfare as the king is occupied. Lancelot and Gwaine help to clear the way as they carry the warlock towards the physician's chambers, all hoping that they aren't too late. 

The moment they enter they're hit with the smell of bubbling potions. Gaius is already at his table, flipping through a book while grinding herbs. The cot is clear and waiting with a bucket of water sitting beside a stool. Gwen and Elyan seem to have gone out, probably searching for herbs or gathering more water. 

The physician rises from his seat when they enter, quickly gesturing for them to set Merlin down as he settles on the stool. "Oh, my boy..." he mutters, staring at the wound in his side and the burns on his legs.

"He's going to be alright. Tell me he's going to be alright Gaius," Arthur says as he kneels beside the bed, gripping Merlin's hand.

"I don't know."

Those three words are almost enough to make his heart stop. They're more painful than any mortal wound he's ever suffered in all his life. It feels as though his soul has been ripped in two, each piece separated by the void between life and death. His grip tightens around Merlin's hand as though somehow that would anchor him to the world of the living. The other knights hang their heads down, also worried about the wellbeing of their friend as they pace about the room. He doesn't want to believe what Gaius says. There has been many patients who seemed on the brink of death and yet Gaius has always saved them all. What makes Merlin any different? 

Arthur's hand trembles as he tries to reassure himself, but the more he stares down at Merlin's still form the less confidant he feels. A hand rests on top of his, making him turn his attention back towards the physician who's watching him with soft eyes. "I'll do everything I can to save him," he says with a gentle pat on Arthur's hand, "But I'll have to ask you to step outside so I can work."

"I'm not leaving his side. Not again," the king mutters back.

Gaius sighs, trying to remain calm but Arthur can see the underlying worry in his eyes. "I need to concentrate and unless you're able to help it would be best if you can give me peace and quiet."

"It's an order, Gaius. I'm staying."

With another sigh the physician turns to the knights behind him. They give him a nod despite being reluctant to leave themselves, but seeing as how Gaius currently holds their friend's life in his hands they suppose they shouldn't argue. Lancelot walks over, gently prying Arthur's fingers apart from Merlin's before lugging him up into a standing position. "Come on," he says, "We'll wait outside."

Lancelot starts to pull him towards the door, but Arthur keeps his feet planted in place. "I'm not leaving," he says stubbornly, a little louder this time. He feels frustrated. Frustrated because no one will listen to him. Frustrated because Merlin is dying. And frustrated because his own mind won't listen to reason. He knows it's best to allow Gaius to work, but his emotions won't allow him to step out the door. 

Gwaine huffs out a breath beside him. "We're not willing to leave either, but you know it's for the best. We'll only be a distraction. Now, come on," he says as he throws an arm over Arthur's shoulder. "Have faith in Merlin. He's a tough lad. He'll pull through," he grins while giving the king's shoulder a shake. 

Arthur tries for a smile, knowing that his friends mean well. "You're right."

Gwaine pats him on the shoulder with a smile then leads him out. He sends one last glance over his shoulder, whispering a silent 'I love you' before stepping out into the hall.

\----

It's another hour before Hunith and Will come rushing down the hall, both their face stricken with grief and desperation as they stop in front of the door. Hunith walks up to him first, eyes pleading and with her hands clasped together in front of her almost in a prayer. "Please, tell me he's alright... tell me he's going to be fine..." she says weakly. 

Arthur looks down at the ground, shifting in his spot as he tries to think of something, anything to say. Does he tell her the truth? Lying would save her some pain, but what if he doesn't make it? Lying would only crush her more then. Besides, enough lies have been told already and so far all they've done is cause more pain. 

"Gaius says he's doesn't know," Arthur begins, pausing momentarily when he sees the sudden drop of her shoulders, but he continues on, "right now, all we can do is wait."

Hunith is taken aback and the newfound terror that appears on her face seems to say it all. She opens her mouth, about to respond when suddenly Will grabs him by the front of his chainmail and pushes him against the wall. The boy's eyes are alight with fury and if he could he doesn't doubt that Will would have killed him by now. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," he hisses, shoving him even further against the wall, "I knew I should have-" he's cut off by a hand pulling him back. Will struggles for a moment, trying to grab at the king again, but being no match to a knight of Percival's stature he stops quickly. He continues to glare though, teeth gritted as he snarls, "You should have left us all alone. We were fine without you butting your head into our lives. I trusted you! You said you'd watch him! You said you'd-" he chokes on his words, tears running down the sides of his face. He hangs his head down as he stares at the door, voice growing quiet. "You said he wouldn't get hurt. That you'd protect him."

Arthur looks to the door as well, picturing Merlin lying still and silent on the cot, perhaps never moving again and it would all be his fault. But isn't everything? His mother's death, his father's intent on revenge, and now perhaps even Merlin's death. He was somehow the cause of all of it. The misfortune of everyone around him seems to all come from him. "I'm sorry..." he mutters. The two words being all he's able to stutter out in his defence.

He suddenly feels a gentle hand caress the side of his face. He looks down, finding Hunith smiling up at him as she wipes away the tears that he hadn't realized were running down his cheeks. "It's not your fault," she says, voice barely above a whisper. She moves closer and suddenly he feels arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer to a warm body. "You've done nothing wrong, Arthur. You don't need to apologize."

He's struck speechless at her words, at the sincerity in them. He doesn't know how to respond. Doesn't know what he should do while Hunith holds him tenderly as though comforting her own child. He feels awkward, strange at the interaction and yet at the same time he doesn't hate the feeling. In fact, he relishes in it. The warmth and calming aura soothes his whole body and, slowly, he leans down, wrapping his own arms around her tightly. And, finally, after years of pent up emotions he lets it all out. He holds on to Hunith, head buried against her shoulder as he pours his heart out. Through it all there is not one complaint from Hunith. She holds him, telling him reassuring words as he breaks down in front of her. By the end he's embarrassed at his sudden display of weakness. His nose is red and his eyes are puffy, but Hunith's smile that reminded him so much of Merlin's helped to push away all those feelings. 

Was this what it was like to have a mother?


	29. The End of Destiny

Gaius emerges from the physician's chambers a while later and Arthur immediately gives the old man his full attention. The others do the same, all crowding around the physician as he shuts the door behind him with a blank expression as though he's done this a hundred times before, which the king supposes he has. "I have done all that I can for him," Gaius says, his voice level and Arthur can feel his hopes start to deflate. This is it. It's over. Done. Merlin's gone.

The others seem to think the same thing. Their shoulders drop and their expressions turn grim, but Gaius only raises his eyebrow at them as though they were all insane. It takes a moment for the old physician to realize what they're all dreading and when he finally does he just shakes his head in exasperation. "I didn't finish," he says, sending a glance towards them all before continuing, "I was about to say that I have done all that I can for him, but he still needs a lot of rest."

Hope returns almost instantly. The atmosphere in the hall changes at the addition of those few words and everyone's eyes light up once again. "He's going to live?" Arthur asks with a wide smile already tugging on his lips.

Gaius looks to Arthur then shifts his gaze to the others around him who all have the same glint of hope in their eyes. "Nothing's ever certain, but I can say his chances are much greater than before," he says and finally he smiles. 

Arthur lets out a relieved sigh, the words not being enough to dampen his spirits. A chance is better than none at all. "Thank you, Gaius," he says, then glances towards the door a little hesitantly. "May we?" He gestures towards the room and the others behind him seem just as eager to see their friend. 

Gaius looks between them all, "As long as you're not all going in at once. He's awake, but too many people may overwhelm him."

Arthur glances to the others behind him, knowing that everyone wants to see him, but if anyone deserved to see him first, it was Hunith. He gestures towards the door as he turns to the mother. "Go on. We can visit him later," he says with a smile, hoping he's able to hide the slight disappointment he feels. But, he knows this is for the best. Merlin would want to see his mother first and perhaps Will after. 

Hunith shakes her head, placing a hand on his arm and urging him towards the door, "You're the one he's going to want to see," she says with a small smile. 

"But-" 

"Go see him, Arthur. I'll visit him later."

Arthur looks to the door, then back to Hunith. He would love to. He would want nothing more than to see him smile with that dopey grin, but shouldn't his mother be the first to see him? She must be even more worried than he is. "No, I insist. I have some duties to attend to first. I'm still the king after all. Let him know I'll visit him later."

"Ar-" 

Before she's even able to begin her sentence he's already started down the hall. He catches her frown at him from the corner of his eye, but no one does anything to stop him. Not her and not his knights. So, he continues walking. 

\----

He signs the last of the documents and pushes it aside for Leon to collect tomorrow, more than happy to finally be done with the pile of work the knight had brought in earlier in the day. He stretches his arms in the air, working out the ache in his back from being hunched over a desk for so long. The sun has already set, the city now quiet as the townspeople turn in for the night after a long days work. The king is about to head to bed himself when he catches sight of the small window of the physician's chambers. Light shines from the room, a golden glow that reminds him of Merlin's eyes. 

Merlin... maybe he's still awake... He'll just take a peek. Just to make sure he's alright. 

He quickly leaves the room, his legs moving on their own accord as they carry him all the way to the physician's chambers. He stops in front of the room then carefully opens the door a tiny bit, not wanting to wake the boy in case he was asleep. 

The moment he peeks through the gap he's greeted by the scent of stew, making the memories of his time in Ealdor resurface at the familiar aroma. Hunith is standing by the fire, stirring the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon just as she had when he first met her. She's humming a little tune to herself as she prepares a bowl and judging from her relaxed posture he can only assume Merlin is doing fine. 

"Here. I made your favourite," Hunith says as she carries the bowl over to the cot. She sits and smiles at Merlin, taking a spoonful of the stew and guiding it towards him.  

Arthur hears a soft chuckle, then a groan as Merlin tries to sit up in the bed. "I'm not a baby anymore. I can feed myself," Merlin says and Arthur can just picture the grin on his face. 

Hunith sighs at her son, but still smiles nonetheless when Merlin takes a bite from the spoon she holds aloft. "Did Arthur come by when I was asleep?" The warlock suddenly asks after swallowing the mouthful. 

"No, not yet. He said he was busy."

"Oh..." Merlin looks down at his lap, expression glum. 

Arthur feels guilty for leaving, but he figured the two would want some time to themselves. He's about to turn around and leave when the door decides now is the best time to start making some noise. The hinges creak loudly when he moves to shut the door and suddenly all eyes are turned towards him. He sighs and pushes the door open, finding no point in hiding any longer now that his covers been blown. 

"Um, I was just making sure he was alright. I'm sorry to have disturbed you," he says awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I'll... um... be going now." He turns to leave, but Hunith, somehow moving much faster than he thought she could, stops him with a grip on his wrist.

He looks down to see her smiling up at him, a little mischievous glint in her eyes similar to what he sometimes saw in Merlin. "I need to go run an errand for Gaius while he's away. If you don't mind could you watch him until I get back?" she asks, "Oh, and make sure he finishes this," she adds, pushing the bowl into his hands before quickly brushing past him to leave the room.

He isn't able to protest as the door has already closed behind her before he's even able to comprehend what she said. He sighs, looking down at the bowl before moving towards the stool Hunith had just vacated. Looking up, he finds the boy watching him, eyes scanning down his body as though inspecting it for damages. "Are you alright?" Merlin questions with a frown, "You're not hurt?"

Arthur sighs when the boy's brows furrows together and at the downturn of his lips. Of course Merlin asks for his wellbeing first despite being the one hurt. He wouldn't be Merlin if he didn't care about others before himself. "I'm fine because of you," he says with a small smile, "and I thank you for that."

Merlin returns the grin, "You don't have to thank me. Had you not found me I wouldn't be here now."

Arthur knows, and he doesn't even want to think of the idea of how close they both were to death. Wanting to change the subject, he takes a spoonful of the stew then guides it towards Merlin's mouth. "Come on, open up," he says teasingly, purposefully treating the warlock like a child. 

"I can feed myself!"

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him, the mischievous smirk still on his face and with a sigh Merlin takes a bite, cheeks flushing at being fed by the king. "You tell anyone and I'll turn you into a toad," he mutters after swallowing his food. 

Arthur chuckles then leans in, pressing his lips against Merlin's in a gentle kiss. He hears a quiet yelp of surprise before the servant returns the gesture with twice as much eagerness. Arthur can taste stew and a slight bitterness from Gaius' potions as he deepens the kiss. He lifts a hand up, holding the sides of Merlin's face as they move in sync. 

And for once in the king's life he's happy with his fate. Happy with his destiny.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this last chapter! 
> 
> In all honesty, I'm not very proud of this, but it was the best I can do and I may come back one day to fix it but no promises. Anyways, I want to give everyone a sincere thank you for reading!


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